Of all the dubious decisions I’ve made in the first couple months of impending fatherhood, the one I most regret is the body pillow that I bought for Wifey early on.
I suppose there’s a case to be made for inevitability; obviously, Wifey’s comfort is paramount for the next 6 months or so. But now I’m in the awkward situation of living with a very petite woman who somehow already managed to take up more than half the bed, and to top it all off, now there’s this pillow taking up space.
It doesn’t help how much she loves the damn thing. She climbs into bed at night – warm, soft, scented. She smiles, reaches closer to me… and wraps all of her limbs around that fucking body pillow.
I know it’s not another man – God forbid. She tells me she doesn’t love the pillow, that it’s only a marriage of convenience. She says she’ll end the relationship when it’s run it’s course.
But you look at them together and tell me it doesn’t seem serious!
I thought it was the baby in her belly that would drive the wedge between us, after it’s been carried to term. But instead I had to go buy this stupid pillow, in the middle of the first trimester, no less.
Unfortunately, unlike many of the other paternal errors I am bound to make, this one is less easily brushed under the carpet. After all, it sleeps in bed with us.