By Mike Pound
Globe Staff Writer
JOPLIN, Mo. —
For about as long as I have been writing this column I have had to battle an army of pillows that have been trying to take over my house and force me out of our home and into our backyard. I don’t know where the pillows come from. I just know that every time I look around I see more of them.
Even though I don’t know where the pillows come from, I do know that my wife is the one responsible for bringing them into our house.
I will be sitting on the couch in our family room surrounded by pillows that used to be on the couch but are now on the floor because I had to throw them there in order to find a space to sit when my wife will walk into the room carrying two more pillows.
“AGGGGGGGGGGH! WHERE DID THOSE COME FROM?” I will scream.
“Never mind,” my wife will say and put them next to me on the couch and leave the room.
As I sit on the couch I try not to look at the new pillows that I’m pretty sure are staring at me and trying to figure out how to get me into the backyard.
It used to be that when I found the pillows staring at me I could get up and go to our three-season porch where the pillow population was more manageable. But recently my wife rearranged the three-season porch and turned it into a four-season porch.
By the way, when I think of a four-season porch I think “baseball, football, basketball and baseball again.” When my wife thinks of a four-season porch she thinks “summer, fall, winter, spring.”
We’re different that way.
Because of my wife’s decision about the porch, she had to buy new furniture for it. When my wife purchased new furniture, she had to buy new pillows.
“Don’t throw these on the floor,” my wife said when she put the new pillows on the new furniture.
“And don’t sit on them either,” my wife said as if she could read my mind, which I hope she can’t because if she could I’m pretty sure she would help the pillows force me out into our backyard.
I asked my wife how I was supposed to sit on the new furniture if I wasn’t supposed to sit on the new pillows and if I wasn’t supposed to throw the pillows on the floor.
“Sit around them,” my wife said.
I wasn’t even sure what that meant, but I decided to drop the issue and wait until my wife left the four-season porch, at which point I could throw the pillows on the floor.
Later, after I picked up the new pillows and put them on the new furniture, I left the four-season porch and went upstairs to our bedroom.
My plan was to sit in the chair in our bedroom and watch TV, but when I got to our room I discovered that the chair was covered with large pillows.
“AGGGGGGGH! MORE PILLOWS!” I screamed.
“Relax,” my wife said. “Those aren’t for the chair, they’re for the bed.”
When I pointed out that we already had roughly 2,398 pillows on our bed, my wife said that she was replacing the roughly 4,983 pillows with new pillows.
“What about the old pillows?” I asked.
“I’m getting rid of them,” my wife said and then she left the room.
After my wife left the room, I could feel the roughly 7,381 pillows staring at me.
“Psst,” I whispered. “I’m on your side. If you force her to the back door, I’ll open it so you can push her outside.”
The pillows didn’t say anything. They just smiled.
Do you have an idea for Mike Pound’s column? Call him at 417-623-3480, ext. 7259, or email him at email@example.com. Follow him on Twitter @mikepoundglobe.