Goodnight John Boy

From the time she was old enough to journey outside of a crib until the days I became curious about boys and training bras, my sister Amy and I shared a bed. I had so many tricks to make bed sharing a favorable experience for myself. Sometimes I would rush through the teeth brushing routine in order to get to bed before Amy. On these nights, I strategically pulled 8 -10 inches of the top sheet onto my side of the bed and then neatly tuck it under my backside. This was all done in effort to ensure my constant coverage throughout the evening. Amy was always a very small child, so in retrospect I am not sure where this concern came from. In reality, I am the cover stealer. Another trick I kept in my back pocket was the "bed alarm". I still like to believe that Amy was at least partially convinced that when I ran my hand down the middle of the bed that it was an actual alarm (not my mouth) making the siren noise when my hand found an enemy elbow or a knee on my side of the bed.

I remember the day my parents told us that one of us could move into the fourth bedroom. Amy and I scurried around, collecting as many of our personal items as our elementary school arms could carry. With more passion than a pair of contestants on the Amazing Race, we sprinted to the den to mark our territory. I believe our thinking was that the girl who got the most items to the room first would claim exodus from our bedroom because, "Gosh, I can't possibly be expected to move all of this back into the old room. I am practically all moved in!" Despite the presence of Amy's Cabbage Patch Kid doll and jump rope, she was returned to our childhood room and I was packing my belongings, with visions of new bedspreads and freshly papered walls in my future.

Not long ago, Herb was talking with our friend Jake about the changes that have come with marriage. Jake was especially curious about how we have transitioned from being independent sleepers into the world of bed sharing. For two people that have been flying solo in bed for a combined total of 53 years, it was a suprisingly seamless transition. This is the conversation I had racing through my brain at 3AM this morning when Herb left our bed for the couch. I am sick (again) and he told me he could actually see the germs moving from my body to his and "how heart broken would you be if I slept on the couch tonight, baby?" So at 3AM I was thinking about how easily it has come. After four short months, it is not bed sharing that is unusual, it is his absence that feels strange. And while Herb doesn't fall for the bed alarm trick, I like having him there.