My wife is with child. And it feels like I am too. Oh no, not because I now eat over my allowed portions due to sympathy weight. No, the food-child in my tummy isn’t weighing me down.

It’s this thing:

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The pillow is shaped like a long white turd, making it impossible for me to sprawl out these days. The pillow is so imposing that the cat now sleeps downstairs since she can no longer crowd the head of the Mrs.’ pillow…the top of the turd pillow actually crowds any remaining space the cat would.

The only time the cat could fit the bed is when we’re not in it.

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The thing about this turdling is that it tosses and turns with Mrs. Ranman. Which means as she turns left the pillow must be brought over from the right for continual spooning. Which means it smacks me in the face in transition. Which technically means I get to toss and turn in unison. Can’t wait to retire this thing.

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