Thursday, June 17, 2010

Miztrezboo Week 6 Entry: It's All in The Threadcount


Miztrezboo's Choice: Picture 1

It's All in the Thread Count

I love my bed.

I know it might sound like a completely strange thing to say, admit even. But I love my bed.

I love my bed more than I love chocolate.

I love my bed more than I love that first cool breeze signifying the end of summer and that fall is on its way.

I love my bed more than I love my husband.

Well, maybe not that much.

But I do love my bed more when he's not in it.

You see, I'm a little bit of a bed hog. I like to be able to find the cool side of the pillow without having to turn it over. I like spreading my arms and legs out, a virtual starfish amongst the cotton sheets. I love that I can watch TV lying on my stomach across the big expanse of mattress and when my back aches, I can roll so my legs hang off the edge and stretch myself right out. I love that when he's not home, I tend to sleep diagonally across the bed. Somehow, sometimes - I find myself sleeping horizontally across it.

Those times do tend to be when our sausage dog, Mookie sleeps with me. Little bastard may be small but he kicks and pushes you till he has ninety percent of the bed and you have the tiny slice at the end. Not that I mind, because Mookie keeps me company when Emmett is away. It used to be for the odd day, once every other month. Then it was weekends, then a conference here and there that lasted a week.

Then it was opening up the new store in Washington that was supposed to be a month but was three - nearly four by the time he ever woke up in our bed again.

Maybe I should rephrase my earlier statement.

I love my bed more when he's spent more than one night in it, hell more than the few hours he does spend to get me off before he has to disappear again.

I'm resolved, this time when he comes home, we are talking about his lack of quality time in our bed. Our bed misses his fat ass. Our bed needs to feel his his body denting the side near the window because he likes to wake up with the sun shining in his face, and fall asleep looking at the stars. Our bed misses his head squooshing the pillows and him complaining every time he reaches back and smacks his hands against the cast iron bed head. Our bed misses having more than just one body in it.

Our bed is lonely.

I'm lonely.

Mookie is nice to snuggle to but he's not my husband. Mookie does however let off gas bombs under the covers the same way he does. I roll around, shoving the duvet up around my head as I lie here and contemplate Emmett's imminent return. I have to wash the sheets today, like I always make sure I do before he comes home so everything smells clean and fresh. We're similar in that way. It's probably weird or strange but on days when I've cleaned our bed linen. We both end up going to bed early, sharing a shower before giggling and ass slapping each other as we race to our bed. Both so eager to get under the covers and soak up that sun smell that permeates the fabric when I've had them out on the outside line. It was one of the major selling points of this house we call home.

Big ass bathtub, a huge yard for children in our future and an outside line big enough to hang bed linen on.

What can I say, we both like to spend a lot of time in bed.

Well we did.

I sigh and shove my head into the blankets once more. I miss him. The reason I also need to wash the bed stuff today is because I haven't washed it since he left more than a month ago.

I know, its gross.

But I can still smell him if I press my nose close enough. If I inhale deeply enough.

At least I like to think I do.

He's coming home today though, and lying here in my little shorts and tank top isn't going to get them clean in time for when he comes home tonight.

But not lying here, not breathing him in and not imagining what we'll do tonight when he does walk in the door isn't something I'm willing to give up yet.

I breathe in deeply, pulling the duvet over my head, surrounding myself in soft, cool cotton and cocoon myself once more.

I really do love our bed.