You fluff my pillow, I'll fluff yours. IYKWIMAITYD

Most nights, I'm the first one to bed.

Most nights, I'm the one to straighten the bedcovers.  (Because of course we don't make our bed.  Of course not.)

Last night, Jimi was the first one to bed.  

Last night, Jimi straightened the bedcovers. 

Last night, when I laid my head on my pillow, it was like falling into a cloud.  I'm not making that analogy because I was dead tired and ready to crash after going GO-GO-GO for the last few days, though that is the truth.  No, my pillow felt like a cloud because - get this -

Jimi fluffed my pillow.  

He fluffed my pillow.  Like chambermaids supposedly do in fancy hotels, he fluffed my pillow.  And it was like new, and soft, and fluffy, and cloud-like, and I loved it.  

So when I got up to pee at 3:20 this morning, and came back into a poisonously odoriferous bedroom that had been gassed by my beloved, I couldn't even be mad. And by "I couldn't even be mad", I mean when I said "OH MotherFUCK!  What in the hell did you do in here?!", I said it with a very loving tone and with no intention of waking my kind-hearted, pillow-fluffing partner.

Kindness begets kindness.