My husband says I sleep like a goat in a burlap bag. I’m everywhere. He, on the other hand sleeps as if he is in King Tut’s tomb. He lays down and doesn’t move. I admit that I have woken up on the floor, at the bottom of the bed and totally horizontal lying across him like a small “t”. I know that I snore, slobber, grunt and make small farts while I sleep. We have a beautiful pair of red sheets that we only use every now and then. Why? Because I slobber on the pillowcases in a disgusting fashion leaving white streaks all over them. My body is cool when I slide into bed with him with my feet being ice cold. Why, you ask does he want me in his bed? I can’t answer that question. I only know that he does.

Sarcastic escaped executive. Best-selling author. Writes whatever she wants.

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