Out of an ordinary life comes extraordinary moments
Monday, December 20, 2010
Sleeping With a Corpse
I am a really cold person. During the winter, I am cold most of the time. My negative temperature usually reaches its zenith about bedtime. Loving both nightgowns and flannel, I put on my warmest grandma flannel nightgown and fluffy socks. I always turn on my heated mattress pad at least an hour before I go crawl in between my flannel sheets. Did you catch all of the heat sources there? When it's time for bed, I move quickly to remove the day's clothes and put on my pajamas. If I move too slowly, I will freeze like one of the White Witch's statues. I try not to touch my husband, I really do, but I'm soo cooold! I lay as close to him as possible without actually touching him. I have become quite proficient at carefully hold my body within one centimeter of his--close enough to catch the aura of his body heat without giving him seizures from the sudden cold. Sometimes, if he is still awake when I come to bed, he will wrap himself around me and I am in heaven. He sleeps hot and I sleep cold and that's how I know we were meant for each other. Sometimes an errant hand will find his body in its involuntary attempt to survive without a reliable blood source. Every time, my husband is shocked out of sleeps and jolts away from me. "What is wrong with you?" he pleads. "If you have to touch me, Do Not touch bare skin! You're going to give me frostbite!" I apologize and scooch my hand back a couple of millimeters to avoid touching him, but can still benefit from his radiant heat.
Last night, he asked, "Do you think if I licked your hand, my tongue would stick?"