There were lots of things I was worried about when thinking about sharing a bedroom with another living, breathing human.
Would I snore? Will I kick him in my sleep? Will he kick me in my sleep? What if pee the bed? What if I talk in my sleep? No, seriously, what is the plan for peeing in the bed? What if I can’t sleep because he is… there. Always. There.
Never did I question if I would steal covers. I’m a good person. I do not steal.
“Mmmm… how did you sleep, Sweetie?” I asked sleepily after our first night in Jamaica.
He opened one eye and looked at me over the top of the mountain of covers between us. “Good… but, Sweetie, you’re a…Cover Stealer”.
Excuse me? I’m a what?
“I don’t steal covers! Look at all of this! There have to be MILLIONS of feet of comforter between us! As in both of us have the option of taking as much as we want… you’ve lost your mind, dude…clearly lost your mind”.
“Yeah,” he said with a smile, “because I woke up in the middle of the night and had to wrestle the covers back to the middle of the bed… don’t worry… I forgive you.”
This man is insane. I’ve married a loon.
“You’re insane. I am not a… thief.”
“No, you’re not a thief. It’s just that, well, the people in your hemisphere (of the bed), they feel that they need more of this resource (the covers) than the poor, cold (we were in Jamaica for crying out loud… no one was cold) people in my hemisphere.”
(This little conversation has become one of my “Make Me Smile” memories that has the power to, well, make me smile no matter what is going on… it’s nice.)
The next morning the same scene probably would have played out except that I woke a little bit earlier and found…
All of the covers. All of them, except for about a foot wide portion that covered me, in a pool of material on the floor next to my side of the bed. I had caught myself red-handed.
I am a Cover Stealer.
And I keep cover stealing! That’s the worst of it. I just can’t stop. Every morning I look sheepishly over at Mark, and he nods affirming my new deepest fear. The Cover Stealer strikes again.
So at night, when you are saying your prayers for kids in Darfur and Hilary as she grieves the lost nomination, think about Mark and the people of his hemisphere of the bed. Pray the Lord keeps him warm as he sleeps next to… the Cover Stealer.