I love fuzzy things. And soft things. Like fuzzy socks and fuzzy blankets and fuzzy pillows and pretty much everything soft and warm and cuddly.
So the other day I got a new pillow. It wasn’t really all that fuzzy. It’s like, knit, or whatever. But it’s still fairly soft and nice.
On the ride home from the store where I got it, my siblings got into a big argument (I don’t remember what it was about, I wasn’t really paying attention). I was just kind of absently touching the pillow and feeling the fabric.
Suddenly, there was a lull in the noise, and I just heard my younger sister saying, “... she’s just sitting there, stroking her pillow.”










