It’s funny. For the [nearly] eleven years of our marriage, Alissa and I have shared a bed. I know it’s shocking. I also know that this opening sentence might be cause for some discomfort among my readers. Rest assured this post will remain G rated. I’m writing about sleep. Now, neither of us travels without the other on anything resembling a regular basis. There have been a few nights when she was sick and slept in the recliner for a favorable body position. There were also a couple of occasions when she took the kids and went to her parents while I was doing taxes during the peak weekends.
Now, we obviously get along fine, but we do compete for space and blankets. So here’s the funny part. One would think that someone would spread out and take advantage of all the extra real estate in bed when there partner is not present. So wheat did I do last night when faced with a vague expanse of slumber-laden real estate? I curled up in a blanket and stayed on my side of the bed. I guess I’m a creature of habit. Now, all this talk of sleep is making me sleepy.
Good night all. There’s just one more day of tax season.