“A ruffled mind makes a restless pillows.”
– Charlotte Bronte

Apart from the subconscious boxing J. and I seem to engage in while asleep, it is not the only adjustment to be made sharing a bed.

Though we have little awake experience to corroborate this, morning evidence suggests that we also play blanket tug-o-war on an almost nightly basis.  Admittedly our second best set of sheets is pretty flimsy and doesn’t grip the bed well, but many is the morning we have woken up nearly smothered by a fitted sheet sprung free from its mattress corner.  We also must toss and turn a lot because some mornings we awake to find blankets kicked off to the floor, or gathered so tightly around our heads that our feet are poking out.  I suspect myself of secret malice because some mornings I wake up, completely overheated, but piled with most of the blankets, as if to keep J. from getting at them.

J. however, has sunk to a whole new low.  A few nights ago, I was deep in slumber when he started moving around a bit and woke me up.  Just an eyelid flicker, nothing too serious.  I’d just closed them again when suddenly…

Thunk!  My head dropped back and plunked on the bed.  I scrambled up in confusion but a quick glance to my left explained all.

J. had stolen my pillow!  Right from under my head!  In his sleep!

I dragged it back, which of course woke him up, disgruntled I might add.
“You stole my pillow!” I accused.
“No I didn’t,” he returned.
“Yes you did,” was my witty rejoinder.
“No I…oh…”
His own missing pillow surfaced, shoved up in the corner of the bed.

Jerk.