So in a continuation of yesterday’s post about our dog (and I promise to get off the canine train soon), he is further spoiled by being allowed to sleep on our bed with us at night. When we first got Bailey, he was not allowed out of the basement. Then he wasn’t permitted past the first floor. Before we knew it, he was happily cozying up on our feet at night. Once on a church camping trip, I overheard my husband telling our pastor about this. Our pastor cited it as paralleling “the slippery slope of sin.” Be that as it may, this is definitely our hot-button bed issue. Everyone’s got a bed issue–your spouse steals all the covers, extra extraneous pillows are a cause of contention, freezing toes jolt you from a deep sleep, the drone of snores feeds your insomnia and temperature preferrence issues can be debated ad nauseum (side note: I largely credit our dual-sided control heated mattress pad with saving our marriage and our heating bill). But since this is my blog, I’m focusing on my issue: I enjoy approximately 1/9 of the surface space our queen-sized bed provides. This is a generous estimation. 2/3 goes to my husband while my dog stretches out on the other 2/9. Twice in my life, while pregnant, I had to share my 1/9 with an in-utero baby and no less than 10 pillows. Picture that one in your head and wonder I have serious sleeping issues. Any fellow commiseration welcome.