Coming to a head.

For my birthday I received a new pillow. This may not seem very momentous, but I'm very particular with what goes under my head at night. I prefer something about as hard as a block of wood and covered with a pillow case. (Preferably a case with a high thread count. I'm not a peasant, after all.)

It's not quite as hard as my old pillow, but that might be because I've had my old one for several years now and it's been through a lot. I'm a reasonably clean guy but after thousands of hours resting a body part on an item that never gets laundered even I had to admit that my poor pillow had seen better days. I did love that pillow, though, and it made me think of other things I've had to get rid of over the years.

One was a shirt with a smiley face that got too ratty. It was several sizes too large even for me, so I could walk up to people, spread my arms, and become a wall of yellow with a giant face staring at you. I'd accompany this with a shouted, "Smile!!"

I've also lost a few root beer drinking glasses, which make me especially sad. I'd like to say it was The Boy who broke them, but I think it was actually The Wife. (She was always jealous of my fondness for root beer.)

My biggest regret, though, is losing an old plastic bowl. It was big and white, with a pucker on the bottom where it must have gotten too close to something hot. It wasn't much to look at, but it was distinctive and I loved it because it would make a great cherished memory for my kids. I imagined them eating popcorn out of it while watching Disney movies (or old Doctor Who episodes, if they take after me). It's the kind of memory that sticks with you, and I was hoping they'd fight over this bowl when I die.

This was before I realized there was no way in hell I'd ever have more than one kid, of course, so I'll have to think of some other way to make The Boy suffer from beyond the grave.