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I got up around midnight and wandered the upstairs, landing in my son’s empty bed because there were fewer animals there. Since I don’t use a pillow, one of my cats has claimed mine, and only at the concession of my dog who often takes a queenly posture on my Posturpedic that later degenerates into a most unfeminine spread eagle sack-out. The other cat, if I am sufficiently unconscious, plants himself literally as close to my face and neck as is possible without allowing his hair up my nose so much as to suffocate me. Round about morning when my breathing is so labored due to animal dander and there is a crushing sensation on my chest, I might wake up just in time to save myself. And when I do I see that my husband, the preferred animal in my bed, is gone.

You might wonder why I don’t shove all these creatures out and reclaim my space. Maybe it’s their tenacity, but maybe it’s just that right now it is pretty sweet to snuggle up in the sheets of my little boy who is a big guy now, and soon won’t be here much at all. I guess it’s all because I’d ruined my well-established sleep rhythm by sleeping-in for fourth of July, and then likely a failure to exercise enough on the third of July, despite two trips to the pool to do laps.

This all had me roaming the halls thinking up silly pieces to post, like this one.