I’m sure readers out there have been itching for a good husband post…this is your lucky day.
The husband & I have all sorts of negotiations regarding the temperature at night. I’m pretty much always cold during the day. But something crazy happens at night & I become a furnace.
I think it’s because my parents never ran the heater at night…ever. I’ve awakened to the sight of my breath more than once on a chilly morning. Further, our heater had a timer so it started up about 6:30AM every morning. It was kind of a great way to wake up. I hardly needed an alarm clock. The downside, however, is that I still respond to that alarm clock. So if the furnace kicks on at 12AM, I feel like it’s time to get up.
My husband clearly grew up in the lap of luxury & is accustomed to having a consistent temperature day & night. Thus, the no furnace at night policy keeps him too cold to sleep.
If my parents emphasized one thing to us it was a holy fear of carbon monoxide & salmonella poisoning. So if the heat itself wasn’t enough, the fear of dying a premature (albeit peaceful) death meant that I just wasn’t going to be able to give in on the issue. I’ve made such a stink about it all that he’s given in quite a bit on the nightly temperature war.
However, we’ve struck a deal that seems to work for both of us. I sleep on his side of the bed until he comes to bed (which is about 3 or 4 hours after me) at which time I move over to my side. It’s great for him because the bed is warm already. And it’s great for me because it cools me off again to move to a new side.
I’m a fairly deep sleeper so I really don’t wake up when it’s time to move to my side of the bed. However, there have been a few nights when I’ve been so deeply asleep that the husband has trouble convincing me to make room for him.
The other night we were talking about this because apparently, the previous night, he had to rely on brute force alone to make room for himself.
And then he said with 100% seriousness: I’m trying to train you to move over when I do this (he squeezed my right leg just above the knee.
Yes, readers, the husband is trying to elicit a Pavolovian Response. What’s next? Dog food?

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