It's Not My Wife's Fault After All

My wife is a known bed hoarder.  She starts out by saying that she wants to 'cuddle,' and by the end of the night, I'm laying on one foot real estate, trying not to fall onto the floor.

At first, I thought this might be a choice that she was making.  I thought that she might just want to take as much of the bed for her tiny frame as possible, and that she wanted to leave me out in the cold.  I thought that, until the events of last night made me rethink my position, and come to the conclusion that bed hoarding is actually something that my wife might not be able to control.

We spent yesterday afternoon helping my sister and her husband put a grow box in their garden.  Good times all around.  We brought Baby J's sleeping stuff, because we knew that she'd need a nap.  Accidentally (because we're not masochists),  we left her sleeping paraphernalia at my sister's, and were forced to get her to sleep without it.

To say the least, I am one tired guy.  I'll actually be a little surprised if this post makes any sense.

Anyway, the way that we finally got her to sleep was by letting her cry in her room for a while, and then transferring her to our bed to sleep betwixt her mom and me.  She fell asleep there, and, because I'm paranoid of this, I tried very hard not to roll even within the vicinity of her.  By about four this morning, I woke up to realize that Baby J had moved toward me the entire night, and that I, subconsciously, kept moving away so as not to roll onto her.  I, the 230 pound guy in our house, was restricted to one foot of real estate, while my 100 pound wife and 19 pound daughter shared the remainder.

My conclusion: Bed Hoarding is genetic.  It's not my wife's fault, she can't help it, and Baby J picked it up from her.  I weep for Baby J's future husband.