“Come here. I’m cold,” my friend’s husband said to her the other night while they were in bed. She didn’t want to. She was hot and the last thing she wanted to do was cuddle with her husband. So she tried to explain it to him very nicely that she’d rather not. Of course, like some men do, he got his feelings hurt.
Our friend who has been married for thirty-five years said, “Well that’s just too damn bad for him. Tell him to get over it. Men think just because they married you that they can sleep all over you and steal blankets and take up far too much space on the bed. Jim and I went separate blankets twenty years ago and I’ve never been happier. Because if we hadn’t and I had to feel his over long toe nails scrap my leg one more time divorce, or murder was in our future.” I love that woman.
“Well you can do what Barb and Art do,” our other friend said referring to her parents. “Separate twin beds. Like Lucy and Desi.”
To which I replied, “Do people actually do that? I thought it was just for TV.”
“Nope,” she chuckled. “They even had the nightstand in the middle.”
“But aren’t there four kids in your family?” I know the next question I was going to ask was probably far too personal. But, hey, I had to know. “How did they, um, you know… progress with the baby making?”
Thankfully my friend didn’t mind the question and laughed. “I asked my mother the same thing when I was a teenager and all she said was, good balance.”
That conversation caused me to think about my own parents. When I went away to college my mother started to sleep in my bedroom. She’ll cheerfully kill me if she ever found out I wrote this but, she’s a horrible sleeper. She snores. She’s a cover hog. I’m pretty sure she has that Restless Leg thing. I, who had to share a bed with her for three days while on vacation vowed to never sleep with her again and praised my father for being able to bear it for the past thirty-six years. But I guess he doesn’t mind her annoying sleeping habits, because when she migrated to my bedroom, his feelings were hurt.
I remember that phone call my freshman year clearly. “Your father thinks I don’t like him.”
“Well, do you?”
“Yeah, sometimes. I didn’t think he would mind sleeping apart but I guess he does.” They haven’t slept apart ever since.I still feel sorry for him.
Is sleeping apart really so bad?
In Regency romances the hero and heroine usually start out in separate bedrooms, but as their story progresses, their love grows and those figurative walls come down they begin to share the same bedroom. But of course in romance novels the hero is never a cover hog.
I’m sure there are some experts that say there might be intimacy problems in your marriage if you can’t share the same bed. But what if you share EVERYTHING else with your spouse besides bedtime? What if you really like your space? What if you like sleeping in the middle of the bed? What if your husband is a really cool dude during the day but snores like a chain saw at night? Is it really wrong to want to sleep alone?
I’ll be honest the thought of sharing a single bed with somebody for the rest of my life never thrilled me. I’m an extremely light sleeper. Any and everything wakes me up, the sound of a watch ticking, the wind blowing, a toilet flushing and I shoot up. Plus I wake up before five even on weekends and I’m not too keen on being touched in my sleep. Yes, I fully realize I have issues. Yet, I know my sleeping habits would drive some people crazy. But if my spouse decided he couldn’t take it anymore and had to sleep in a separate bedroom, would I get my feelings hurt? I probably would. I’m such a girl that way.
So I can see the issue from both sides, and if you want to see a funny little cartoon, that I didn’t draw but illustrates what many people face click here.
Your turn! I want to know what you think about the issue. To sleep together or not to sleep together? Secretly wish you could kick your spouse out of bed? Are you a cover hog? Are they a cover hog? How did you sleep last night? Any and all comments are welcome.