Last night, I had front row seats to a fascinating battle. My wife was in the midst of a loser-leave-town match with her body pillow. Twisting and turning she wrestled with the beast, kicking and punching it into submission.
As she tossed her opponent from one end to the other, mumbling obscenities not fit to print, I watched in awe as she gained control with a headlock, the no holds barred rumble was growing intensely brutal. The dogs looked on from a distance, with their heads cocked and ears up, too afraid to come near the savage eye gouging taking place in the bed.
Just as I was about to intervene, the body pillow cried uncle and was flung across the room in defeat. I took a deep breath, hoping the senseless violence and pillow shredding had ceased. The deflated pillow, crushed and lifeless in the corner of the room, had lost this one as my wife was dominant in her quest for comfort. I peeked in her direction, all was peaceful as she had fallen back to sleep. I lay beside her wide awake, as sleep would not come easy for me after what I had witnessed...
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