Ladies, if you should ever happen to find yourself sleeping with me (and by that, I mean actually sleeping), there’s something you should know: I’m a bit of a cuddler.
My primary snuggle-buddy (i.e. my beautiful wife of 20+ years) is generally tolerant of this strange, strange fetish. Call her crazy.
I understand, though, that everyone needs their own space (even my gorgeous wife), and wants to roll over and let the blood settle to the other side.
It is at these times that I turn to my secondary cuddle bunny. She is French. Her name is “Sofá Cushón.” I greatly appreciate her frequent availability. (Even my wife is Ok with her. Bonus! I guess.) But, between you and me, Sofá’s a bit cold. And stiff. Plus, I think she’s stealing the loose change from my pockets. She can be a bit of a bitch sometimes, too.
Why am I sharing this? Well, I’m feeling more than a little nostalgic.
As a regular reader, you know that I have two daughters, Julianna (8) and Isabella (5). They both LOVE to snuggle with Daddy. Until recently, bedtime notices began with “Who wants to snuggle with Daddy?” and the response from both girls was, in stereo, “Meeee!”
The other day, I made my bedtime call: “Who wants to snuggle with Daddy?”
Isabella yelled: “Meeee!”
But, Julianna retorted: “You can have him. I’m good.”
So, I cuddle up with Isabella while Julianna slips into her own bed. To Isabella, I sing… “Twinkle, Twinkle….” “Rock a Bye Baby…” “You Are My Sunshine.” I scratch Iz’s back. Zzzzz.
I slip out of her bed. But, I notice that Julianna is piled up against the wall, covered with pillows and blankets. Most of the bed is wide open.
Just for a second, I think: I could fit there. And snuggle. In her bed…
But, she doesn’t need me. She’s “Good.” I pause for a moment, then trog to the Master Bedroom.
I schlepp off to bed. I snuggle with the familiar, warming, comforting, softness of my lovely wife.
I’m ever mindful that my time with my baby girls is limited. Soon enough, sunggling with them will move from Awwww to Ewwwww.
I know that my insomnia will ultimately end with my leaping into the waiting arms of a La-Z-Boy!
Which reminds me:
Gentlemen: If you should ever find yourself sleeping with me, then either we are in a fox hole because our nation is under attack, or we are the targets of a wacky “I Love Lucy” mistaken-identity skit. Either way, there’s something you should know: I’m a bit of a cuddler.