Saturday morning antics

Ah, Saturday. A perfect day to sleep in and luxuriate in my own bed. Which of course means I woke up at 4:58 AM (2 minutes before my weekday alarm). I forced myself to stay in bed until 6:18. Go crazy, folks.

Jim and I only really argue about two things:

1. Temperature
I love a cool, crisp room temperature; he wants heat and humidity. It's hard to achieve both of these extremes in a single room. Our solution is a cold room with poor Jimmy bundled up in fleece cowboy pants and a half-zip sweatshirt.

2. Real Estate in the Bed
We have a queen-size bed, but it feels like a twin-size bed. The irony is, when we sleep in any other queen-size bed, it feels great -- sometimes we can go the entire night without even touching each other. But the moment we get in our own bed, we're bumping into each other and getting twisted in the bedding. Jim doesn't like it when I wake him up from a sound sleep to reclaim a blanket or relocate him off of my pillow and back onto his.

This morning I proudly told him that I purposely didn't wake him up at 3:18 AM, even though his elbow was precariously close to my face. He launched a counter-claim against me -- some nonsense about me encroaching on his side of the bed, requiring him to scrunch into a fetal position to even slide into bed (although I contend this wouldn't happen if he went to bed when I do). The conversation resulted in us actually going into the bedroom and reenacting the scenes (just like on America's Most Wanted).

We didn't resolve the bedding issue, but we did laugh hysterically at each other's antics. I'm so glad we make each other laugh. I think he's a keeper.