Actually I'm pretty selfish in most of my activities, but especially when it comes to catching some Zzzs. I need the cubbies more than he does. I need enough room for a person five times my size. I need to be able to manically wiggle my legs around whenever I please. I need a warm leg to put my fat, cold toes on. (My little sister's biggest pet peeve from all the times we shared a bed.) I usually take the good pillow (which is actually Grahm's). I will stay awake reading or clicking away on the computer, even if someone else (definitely not me) has work the next day. And I have a terrible (unique) morning smell that envelopes my entire body, all the way from my sweaty feet to my top-of-the-morning-to-you, stankapotamus breath. (My siblings have pointed this out for years. Nothing makes you reevaluate your morning self like the beginning months of marriage.)
To my credit, I've had 22 years to milk this sleeping self-absorption. It'll take a little bit to break these bad habits ... although my glorious morning smell is probably here to stay.
|Grahm on a road trip. I told you, cute!|
When we finished catching up on Parenthood (are Jasmine and Crosby really back together?!), Grahm was pretty zonked. I got to sleep in much (much much) later than he did, so I wasn't exactly ready to crash. I decided to stay up and figure out Christmas gifts... and by that I mean, I was on Pinterest for a solid two hours. Productivity at its finest, my friends.
When I finally decided to turn in, I had this intense urge to snuggle. This pretty much happens every night, and Grahm is good at indulging my irrational need to treat him like a fluffy body pillow. Last
night, however, he was asleep... so snuggling was out of the question.
Or was it?
Grahm was facing the opposite wall, completely turned on his side and in the middle of a REM cycle. (Side note: I watched an episode of Regis and Kelly once about sleeping positions and what that says about your relationship. Grahm and I sleep on our sides, butts touching, facing opposite sides of the room. I don't remember a lot about the show, but basically, that was the WORST sign for your marriage.
Uh oh. We're doomed.)
I slowly inched my way toward him until I was close enough to hear him dreaming. (There was no escaping this surprise cuddle attack.) I took his shoulder and turned him over on his back, so I could snuggle up to him at a better angle. (It's all about me, people.) I even put his right arm around me. He was startled awake, but quickly fell back asleep. After five minutes, I rolled back over to my side. I can't sleep while cuddling, I just like to cuddle before I sleep.
This morning I woke up and I had all of the cubbies, and Grahm appeared to be falling off the bed.
So the Cliff Note's version: I snuggle sneak-attacked my already sleeping husband. I got him to drowsily cuddle for five minutes before rolling over to my respective side of the bed because I can't be touched when I'm trying to sleep. And I took all the room and blankets by morning.
It's a wonder he doesn't want to sleep on the couch every night. Oh wait, we don't have one. Ha!