Remember the thing about the blankets?
Remember how, in defiance of all logic, he tried to claim that I had actually stolen the covers and done insane things with them?
I thought after the night he sacrificed two perfectly good comforters to this fraud he had nowhere to go. Yes, he still occasionally wakes me up to complain that I’ve “somehow” got the comforter wadded up under me again, but I just roll over and let him undo his ridiculous prank.
Then, last night…
HIM: If I was really framing you, why wouldn’t I put the covers on top of you?
ME: Probably because I got too hot and tossed them right back off. So, out of frustration, you started stuffing them under me
HIM: And that didn’t wake you?
ME: Nope. Still less disruptive than your snore.
HIM: Wow, I’m an asshole.
And then we went to sleep, and everything was fine.
I woke up in the wee hours, shivering, to find that I had no covers because he was under his half and I, somehow, was on top of mine. Not even wadded up under me this time: it must’ve taken him twenty minutes to carefully tip me this way and that without waking me in order to smooth the bedding under me.
Craftsmanship aside, it’s on now. We’ve got a few months before it gets really cold again; help me plan my retaliation.