Fred, after almost 18 years together, is now polarized to my side of the bed during the night. His feet take up my foot room, leaving a wedge of mattress space for me sleep on the size of a circus peanut. He’s drawn there not because I’ve been working-out lately, but by the heat given off by my peri-menopausal hormones clashing together like excited electrons.
“You are on my side again,” I complained to Fred the other night.
“No, I’m not,” he murmured and cross-country skied his way sideways to get as close as possible. Attempts to move him over got me kneed in the kidney and partitioned off to the North-west corner of the mattress (2 circus peanuts wide).
“Do I have to prove it to you?” I said, questioning my judgment, secretly. I imagined us on some National Geographic type animal reality show like “Meerkat Manner” with night vision…and narrators.
“There—you see, the male is definitely moving in,” some “Bowling Tournament Announcer” voice would describe our activities.
The hotter I get, the more Fred wants a piece of my warm bedside. The more Fred is on my side the hotter (and bitchier) I get. If I were to make a cartoon flip-book, it would show the following “night moves” in sequence:
1. Me sleep-radiating, 2. Fred moving closer, 3. Me pushing and poking, getting hotter and grouchier, 4. Fred retreating (guarding his ‘manhood’).
I thought of putting little army men on the mid-point, so that their pointy guns and jagged edged foot/stand assemblies would burrow into his hip, causing him to roll…but that seems extreme. An electric fence crossed my mind, but the current would undoubtedly run both ways.
“I’m hotter than Hell over here!” I, sleep-challenged, coverless and angry, yelled. I was finally starting to understand why some married couples sleep in different beds.
“Back!” Fred sat up. He turned on a clip-on fan and pointed it at me like a trainer with a chair and a whip. I was immediately soothed. He attached it to the backboard and left it blowing on my face all night.
“AH!” I signed, and fell instantly to sleep on my hot, hot side of the bed.
Now I have my soul-mate, the FAN, in bed with me every night. The fear of getting my hair caught in it during night is totally overruled by my comfort.
Plus…it makes a good Fred barrier…when I need it.