One thing I don’t think anybody talked to me about before I got married was the adjustment to sleeping with someone else in your bed. I’ve shared a bed before, with friends or cousins, but that was generally only on a short-term sleepover arrangement. Now I share a double bed with Stan, and Stan is there every night, and I am there every night, and this occasionally lends itself to some difficulties.
The problem is violent sleeping. We figured out the basic mechanics of sharing a bed (cuddle? no cuddle? back-to-back? back-to-belly?) fairly quickly — but we’re both rollers and thrashers. In my sleep, I’ve punched Stan in the mouth, elbowed him in the face, and sacked him in the, uh, sack. Last night he kneed me in the butt.
Apparently I’m not supposed to complain because I’m already up 3-1.