Alternate title: Sleeping with the Enemy.
It's been well established here that I love and cherish sleep.
Now that I'm married, it's even better -- I have someone sleeping next to me! I hated sleeping by myself growing up. I tend to have vivid dreams, and coupled with a very overactive imagination, I am only slightly ashamed to admit that I am sometimes afraid of the dark. Yes, still. Only when I wake up in the wee hours after a particularly trippy nightmare, but you know... it helps to have a giant leprechaun slumbering by my side.
This expression might scare some people, but I find it very comforting.
All that being said...
Kyle is a covers-hog. Not on purpose, he claims, but there you have it. He likes the sheets/quilt/comforter tucked under each side, wrapping him up like a huge burrito, and I consistently have to yank my side of the covers out from under him to cover my poor, shivering self.
His unconscious is a bit touchy about being roused mid-slumber, too. Last week, his pillow fell on the floor while he was asleep (probably because he moves around so much, whereas I can fall asleep and wake up in exactly the same position, covers unwrinkled). Instead of subconsciously reaching down and retrieving his own pillow, he somnambulously decided that mine was more convenient, being much closer to his head.
And so he tried to steal it from me! I was actually awake for this entire episode, and he did not gain consciousness once. Not even when I pulled my pillow back away from him and told him to get his own, whereby he muttered a more colorful version of "What are you doing?!" As if I was harassing him! I pulled even more covers to my side after that, because, c'mon. What are YOU doing, sir?
I imagine I'm no picnic to share a full-sized bed with either, though. (Yes, two adults, one who tips the measuring stick at 6'4," are sharing a double bed). I can't fall asleep with the TV on, or the light of Kyle's phone screen. It needs to be dark and silent before I can nod off. And if Kyle doesn't make the room dark and silent when I'm ready for said nodding off, well...
All I can say is that my lung capacity is truly stellar thanks to all the long-suffering, passive-aggressive, exasperated sighs.
This post has a point, sort of. In spite of all this battling over covers, pillows, lights, and somniloquies (we both talk in our sleep, although Kyle's particular brand of sleep-speech is much more peppery than mine) -- it's really, really nice sleeping next to someone every night. Him in particular.
Although here's hoping that I never get brave. Because if I do, and I wake up from a nightmare to find he's stolen the covers one more time, he should sleep with one eye open. That's all I'm saying.