Bedknobs and Broomsticks

It's amazing how combinations of factors can bring out the silliness. I've just spent a couple of hours on the couch with L watching some quality girlie DVDs. Well, one B-Grade chick flick starring Mandy Moore, at any rate, so we could ogle Matthew Goode. 

L and I have very different styles when we're forced to share a couch (too much washing drying in the living room means limited TV viewing positions). I'm quite happy with the whole each having half a couch in which to do as we please. But that doesn't seem to work for L. She slowly spreads until she occupies every inch of space that isn't taken up by my butt. Sometimes, like tonight, she will angle for this to include my hip, my shoulder, any part of me that is still long enough for her to prop part of her on. Sometimes I'm willing to put up with it, for the sake of peace so I can watch the movie. But tonight, I'd seen the movie before and it was chosen more for its man-candy than it's genius plot line, so I wasn't surrendering without a fight.

Clearly, neither of us has been getting enough sleep, because the silliness was in full flight. At one point I was described as a snuggle point. I'm not sure what that means; I'm not sure I want to, to be honest. But apparently, I'm comfortable as a pillow, as well. Inevitably, I started poking her. It didn't degenerate into some fantasy image for teenage boys, but pillows were thrown at each other. Neither of us was wearing skimpy pyjamas, though, so it's OK. 

It did - strangely - remind me of our last trip together, in Norway. That trip is the reason I was making certain that we were having separate beds when we head to New York. We ended up having to share a double. I know I'm no picnic to share a bed with. I apparently have a habit of rolling over with a dead arm and nearly braining whoever is next to me. Quite a few people have told me this. I've only connected with one person - sorry Lou - but the fear of god has been put into a few others at different times. But I've never done what L did to me. The bed was in an alcove, climbed into from one side and up against walls on the other three. I was soundly sleeping on the wall side, pushed as far against it as I could go thanks to L having similar bed tactics to the ones she employs on the couch. I woke up to find a pair of hands in the small of my back attempting to push me out of bed. Of course, there was nowhere for me to go except into the wall, in spite of my protests and attempts to wake her. It was uncomfortable enough that I'm determined to never be in the same position again - in every sense of that expression.

But I got my own back tonight. L ended up off the couch. So all's fair.

God we need to get a life.