Willy and I have been together for the better part of fifteen years, so you would think that we would have figured out the business of sleeping in the same bed. My shocking confession from the fall aside, it would appear that we still have a few issues to work through. I always thought that the “we” who would be working through these issues referred Willy, but something happened this week that has made me reconsider.

The crux of the issue is that Willy is a hot sleeper, and I am a cold sleeper. He likes to cover himself in sixteen layers in a warm cocoon, I like to be covered by one layer and have my arms and feet hanging out. Given that he is a bed hog, I sometimes get sucked into the cocoon, and escape by invoking the seven bars rule, which refers to the fact that there are fourteen vertical bars in the headboard and he needs to keep his warmth on his side, his seven bars. It’s a silly little thing that rarely works, but always makes us laugh.

We’ve spent most of the winter with two duvets on the bed, but as the weather has gotten ever so slightly warmer, I find that I need to sleep under just one layer; the thinner of the two duvets. It means that I fold one duvet over to his side, and bunch up the sheet in the middle. This was working out pretty well until Willy got into bed the other night and started adjusting the bed covers. I was just drifting off to sleep when next thing I knew, he grabbed a hold of my underpants and YANKED. I yelped at the wedgie, and he apologized profusely, stating that he thought he’d grabbed the sheets.

Great. He confuses my underpants with bed sheets.