The Pillow That Told Bedtime Jokes

Milo had done everything he was supposed to do before bed.

He had brushed his teeth.

He had put on his pajamas.

He had placed his slippers neatly beside his bed.

Well, almost neatly. One slipper was pointing toward the door, and the other seemed to be trying to escape under the dresser.

Milo climbed into bed and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

“Good night,” called Dad from the hallway.

“Good night!”

The light clicked off.

Milo closed his eyes.

His room became quiet.

Very quiet.

Then his pillow whispered, “Psst.”

Milo opened one eye.

“Psst! Milo!”

He sat up.

“Who said that?”

“Down here.”

Milo looked under the bed.

“No, not down there.”

He checked beside the bed.

“Getting warmer.”

Milo stared at his pillow.

The pillow gave a tiny wiggle.

“Hello,” it whispered.

Milo nearly fell out of bed.

“You can TALK?”

“Of course,” said the pillow. “But I usually save my breath for important things.”

“Like what?”

The pillow puffed itself up proudly.

“Jokes.”

Milo blinked.

The pillow whispered, “What does a cloud wear under its raincoat?”

“I don’t know.”

“Thunderwear!”

Milo snorted.

He quickly covered his mouth.

“That was terrible,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” said the pillow.

Milo lay down again.

“All right. One joke. Now I have to sleep.”

“Certainly,” said the pillow.

There was a pause.

“Psst.”

Milo groaned. “What?”

“Why did the teddy bear say no to dessert?”

“I don’t know.”

“Because it was stuffed!”

Milo buried his face in the blanket to stop himself from laughing.

The pillow wiggled happily.

“Oh, you liked that one.”

“I did not.”

“You made a snort.”

“That was a sleepy noise.”

“It was a giggle-snort. Very rare. Very valuable.”

Milo turned onto his side.

“No more jokes.”

“Understood.”

Ten quiet seconds passed.

Then the pillow whispered, “Emergency joke.”

Milo opened his eyes.

“There is no such thing as an emergency joke.”

“There is now.”

Milo sighed. “Fine.”

“What do you call a sleeping dinosaur?”

“I don’t know.”

“A dino-SNORE!”

Milo laughed so hard his blanket slipped onto the floor.

Just then, Dad appeared in the doorway.

“Milo?”

Milo froze.

His pillow became perfectly still.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” said Milo. “My pillow told a dinosaur joke.”

Dad stared at him.

The pillow said nothing.

“Aha,” Dad said slowly. “Well, please ask your pillow to keep the comedy show quiet. It’s bedtime.”

He picked up the blanket, tucked Milo in, and left.

Milo frowned at the pillow.

“You made me look silly.”

“I’m a pillow,” it whispered. “Looking silly is part of my job. Have you seen my corners?”

Milo tried not to laugh.

He failed.

But after another joke about a banana wearing pajamas and one about a sheep that had lost its baa-code, Milo began to yawn.

“Pillow,” he said, “I really need to sleep.”

“Oh,” said the pillow.

It sounded disappointed.

“I like your jokes,” Milo explained. “But if I stay awake all night, tomorrow I’ll be too tired to laugh at
anything.”

The pillow went quiet.

Then it whispered, “What if I tell just one more?”

Milo thought about it.

“One last joke.”

“The grand finale?”

“The grand finale.”

The pillow fluffed itself.

It cleared its throat.

“Ahem. Why did the pillow go to bed early?”

Milo smiled. “Why?”

“Because it was completely… pillow-zonked!”

Milo waited.

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know,” said the pillow. “I made it up.”

Milo started giggling.

The pillow giggled too.

Its giggle sounded like someone softly squeezing a bag of marshmallows.

“Pff! Pff! Pff!”

Milo laughed harder.

The pillow laughed harder.

“PFF! PFF! PFF!”

Soon Milo was hugging the pillow, both of them trying to be quiet and doing a very bad job of it.

At last, their giggles faded into tiny chuckles.

Milo wiped his eyes.

“Okay,” he said. “Show’s over.”

“Agreed.”

“Tomorrow night, you can tell me three jokes.”

“Five?”

“Three.”

“Four and a half?”

“How do you tell half a joke?”

“I’ll stop before the punch line.”

Milo smiled.

“Three jokes.”

“Deal.”

He put his head down.

The pillow became soft and still.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then Milo whispered, “Good night, Pillow.”

“Good night, Milo.”

Another quiet moment passed.

“Psst,” said the pillow.

Milo groaned.

“What now?”

“No joke. I promise.”

“What is it?”

The pillow whispered very seriously, “You’re drooling on me.”

Milo burst into one last sleepy laugh.

“Sorry.”

“It’s all right,” said the pillow. “Occupational hazard.”

Milo didn’t know what that meant.

He was already asleep.

The pillow gave a cozy little puff beneath his cheek.

Then, very softly, it whispered to itself:

“Best audience ever.”

And for the rest of the night, the only joke in Milo’s room was his hair sticking straight up like a surprised
toothbrush.