Last night it was yet another battle for cover supremacy. This morning, I am exhausted.
I have finally had enough.
This weekend, I am going to go look for matching twin beds.
In the absence of having enough space in my house to have connecting, adjoining rooms, I don’t think I can comfortably share a bed with my wife anymore.
I have written about how she has entirely too many rules about where I need to place my pillows, how I should cover myself, what position I should sleep in, etc.
Sleeping in the same bed with Yvonne is akin to attending a college class on the intricacies of sleep dynamics or meeting a friend at three-years old at the sandbox.
In our bed, she is the park bully who wants to dictate how and when we should play. When I get under the covers, I feel like I’m in an envelope because the edges are so tightly tucked in to the sides of the bed, that I can barely move my body.
After covering us, Yvonne proceeds to position the barricade of pillows where she lifts her head with two, hugs another, places one between her feet, elevates her right hip with another…do you get the picture?
You may as well call me Snow because I am sleeping with Yvonne and the Seven Dwarfs, all pillows of course, but nonetheless taking space in my bed. If she gets up in the middle of the night, the repositioning of the pillows is comparable to playing volleyball – punch and throw and toss and serve – those dwarves are getting smacked left and right as she performs the fluffing of the pillows routine. Meanwhile, I am trying to sleep but Yvonne is performing the circus show with Sneezy, Doc and Grumpy performing acrobatics. Step right up folks, ticket for one for our three a.m. show!
If everything i mentioned was not enough, Yvonne also positions herself at a very high point of our bed, on the headboard, and I sleep at a more normal distance from the headboard. What does this mean? Well, when she pulls the covers up, under her chin (almost as if wearing a turtleneck), my head is covered up to my nose and all that is peering out from under the covers are my eyes and forehead. And, these covers are so tightly wrapped around us that I have to struggle to take gasps of air.
I am not a small person and there is no reason why I should feel like Dexter is around the corner waiting to perform his kill as I am restrained.
It is a losing proposition and I have the right to a good night’s sleep in the fashion I see fit.
I am buying twin beds.
Lucy and Ricky did it and lived a happy, blissful life. in fact, on any given day, in my television world, they still do.
However, while I love Yvonne (and she loves me) our life is not a sitcom. And if this continues, one of us is headed for cancellation.