Jay and I were talking about how Donkey likes to wake up at 3am for belly rubs. The following conversation ensued:
Jay: She and I have a tenuous relationship in the witching hours. She is patient, and she waits until I start to roll over, AND THEN SHE STRIKES LIKE LIGHTNING, and wedges herself in a way that reduce my spacious slumber zone into a mere filament of it’s former self. Rinse/Repeat. I wake up defeated and ashamed.
Me: Well, you should. I’ve told you time and again that you must assert yourself and hold your space.
Jay: That means not moving at all — no rolling over, no adjusting, no movement of any kind, lest I risk the LIGHTNING STRIKE. In any event, she wins. Constantly. /Sigh
All I have to say about this entire conversation, is that Jay completely deserves it. He starts out with the TINIEST sliver of space anyway, so that he doesn’t disturb her– because she’s already in bed by the time he gets there. Now, me? I’ll pick up the sheet and lift it as high as I can, and sort of slide in UNDERNEATH her. She will scootch over at that point. But Jay just lays there, all falling off the bed and looking all pathetic.
I don’t feel sorry for him, because normally when he wakes up, her giant donkey head is tucked into his neck, where he is enjoying hardcore snuggles and lovings.
I’m not fooled a single bit. He loves every second of it.