By Jerry Zezima
I am not a man to rest on my laurels, mainly because I don’t have any. But I am a guy who can’t help but rest on a burgeoning collection of popular items that are taking over not only the American home, but possibly the planet itself:
You can’t go into any room in my house — except the bathroom, which could use something comfortable to sit on — without plopping on a packed pile of perfectly puffy pillows.
Thanks to my wife, Sue, the domestic diva here at the Zezimanse, there are, at last count, 33 pillows scattered about the premises.
A recent inventory revealed these startling numbers:
Seven on the bed in the master bedroom.
Six on the bed in another bedroom.
Two on the bed in a third bedroom.
Eight on the couch in the living room.
Two on a chair in the living room.
Six on the couch in the family room.
One on a chair in the family room.
One on another chair in the family room.
Grand total: 33 pillows.
There isn’t a flat surface in the entire place — with the exception of my head — that isn’t littered with pillows.
“Pillows make a house a home,” Sue explained.
“If we had any more pillows,” I said, “we’d need a second house to accommodate them all.”
But it turns out that Sue and I don’t have to apply for another mortgage because our good friends Hank and Angela Richert have even more pillows than we do.
“We’re up to 55,” Angela told me over the phone.
“Hold on,” Hank added. “I have to get a pillow off my head.”
In what could become the Pillow Podcast, or an HGTV show called “Pillow Pals,” we gave each other a FaceTime tour of our respective houses.
The first stop in Hank and Angela’s beautiful home, which Sue and I haven’t seen in person, was the master bedroom.
“We have eight pillows on the bed,” Angela said.
“They breed like rabbits,” Hank noted.
“Well,” I pointed out, “they do spend a lot of time in bed.”
“I’m still trying to train Hank to put them on the bed the right way,” Angela said. “I made them to match the valances. The pillows have to be going the same way as the pattern on the valance. Hank puts them on the bed the wrong way.”
“It’s a pain when you go to bed at night because you have to take all the pillows off the bed,” Hank said. “The question is: Where do you put them?”
“Baskets,” Angela answered.
“We husbands will end up being basket cases,” I said.
“We already are,” said Hank.
“It’s not just having pillows,” Angela said. “It’s how you dress your pillows. I have pillows dressed by season: spring, summer, fall and winter. There also are holiday pillows for Thanksgiving and Christmas. And pillows with messages like, ‘Nothing is more wonderful than family.’ It’s my mission to educate guys on pillow etiquette.”
“I hope there’s not a test,” Hank said. “I’d flunk for sure.”
“Hank refuses to fall in line,” Angela said. “It’s his way of protesting the pillows.”
I must say that all the pillows in Hank and Angela’s house are lovely, including those in the guest room.
“When you and Sue come to visit, that’s where you’ll stay,” said Angela. “You can relax on the pillows.”
“You can have some of ours, too,” Hank said.
“This is what happens when you’re retired,” said Angela. “You get to argue about pillows.”
There was no arguing that the Richerts have the Zezimas beat for pure pillow proficiency.
“This is our bed,” I said while showing it on my phone camera. “We have only seven pillows.”
“You’re falling down on the job,” Hank said.
“At least I’ll land on a pillow,” I responded.
The rest of the tour wasn’t nearly as impressive as what I saw at Hank and Angela’s house, which is a veritable pillow palace.
“You guys are the champs,” I acknowledged.
“Thanks,” said Hank. “But all this pillow talk is putting me to sleep.”
Copyright 2021 by Jerry Zezima