nosuch.org

Mistakes were made

New York City meets Munich

Bed, Bath and Beyond the Grave

July 11th, 2006 · No Comments · Apartment Life, Funny

We recently got some new throw pillows from Bed, Bath and Beyond to accent our new living room furniture.

Here’s us waiting for the new furniture to arrive, by the way:


We had to have the old living room set taken away the night before. The only two pieces of movable seating remaining were taken from the bedroom: the rocking chair and the dog’s bed. So I stole Leo’s bed. Let’s just say I’m grateful that the delivery from Room and Board went off without a hitch the following morning.

It was probably a week or two with the new accent pillows that Conny View definition in a new window noticed something in one of them. It’s not unusual for a down pillow to have a quill jab out occasionally, but this felt like something hard. She unzipped the pillowcase and started feeling around the pillow itself.

“Does this feel like a bone to you?” she asks me, pinching some mystery item in the pillow.

The object feels, through the material about an inch long, curved, and, well, bone-like.

The pillow itself is stitched closed, but we had to know. After carefully manipulating the item to the right spot, I got some small scissors and started opening the seam.

Sure enough. It was a small bone.

Generally, I prefer my pillows boneless. Time to double check the ingredient list:


Perhaps if something makes up less than 1% of the contents, they don’t need to list it. Otherwise it would have to say:
  • 98% feathers
  • 2% down
  • <1% bones

and I’ll admit that doesn’t sound so good for a pillow.

We threw out the bone (I know, I should have taken a picture) and stitched up the pillow and tried to forget about it. Or at least I did. Conny, on the other hand, wanted to be really sure…

“Does this feel like a beak to you?” she asks me, pinching yet another mystery item in the pillow, which does indeed feel like a beak.

I’m not opening the pillow again.

No Comments so far ↓

Like gas stations in rural Texas after 10 pm, comments are closed.