Sleeping Arrangements

For the past 29 years, I have slept on the left side of the bed. The left side of the bed is by the table that holds all of my lotions and potions that are guaranteed to make me look 10 years younger. I haven't given up on waking up one morning and looking like a new woman. But, if I've calculated correctly the 5,839 bottles of magic elixir that I have slathered on my face nightly, haven't lived up to their promise. At this point, my face should look like that of a six months old.

Richard sleeps on the right side of the bed by the alarm clock and the telephone. He is the alarm clock snooze bar champion of the house. How anyone can stay asleep and hit the snooze bar every seven minutes, twelve times in a row, deserves some recognition. I, on the other hand, deserve recognition for not pushing Richard out of the bed and onto the floor after the third snooze bar slam dunk.

Each night when Richard and I settle in for much needed sleep, we each assume our positions. Richard starts out flat on his back, arms down and legs straight. He sleeps parallel, perpendicular and passed out. He would look like a soldier standing at attention, if it weren't for his right leg that he has kicked out from under the covers. Richard sleeps with one leg exposed because he says it keeps him cool. Cool? That makes absolutely no sense to me, but I guess his thermostat must be in his big toe or something.

When I go to sleep, I am always in what I call the running man position. I start out on my right side, both hands up under my pillow (with arms as long as mine, I have to tuck them in somewhere), right leg straight and the left leg up and bent. I call it a running position, but actually I use my bent right leg as a kick stand. I guess I should start calling it the parked bicycle position.

Richard is hot natured and I am cold natured. Richard not only sleeps with his leg out for air conditioning, he also has the ceiling fan on jet engine propeller speed. Each night I jump into bed first and cover every inch of myself with the sheet and blankets. Battened down with only one eye ball showing, I give Richard the go ahead to start up the fan. That's when I hunker down for the night.

Richard and I also have a third bed partner. Maggie is a 15 pound dog, that when sleeping takes up as much room as a 300 pound man. Her body also takes on a liquid quality that forms to every curve and indentation of your body and becomes like another appendage. I do not understand how such a small dog can radiate so much heat. Maggie's body furnace is great for me when the ceiling fan is whipping the covers around the bed. But, if and when I start having hot flashes in the middle of the night, between Maggie's body heat and my flashes, the bed may burst into flames.

We are such creatures of habit, I don't know if we could sleep at all if we changed our sleeping arrangements. I guess we will continue to go through our nightly rituals that become more and more ingrained in us the older we get.

So... with Mama in her kerchief and Richard in his cap, we will both settle down for a long winter's nap.