Wednesday night I lost Little Dude, again.
I woke up and realized I had been sleeping really, really well. As my brain rose to some semblance of consciousness I recognized that I was sleeping so well because I had tons of room in the bed.
I started feeling around for Little Dude. Then I sat up and started looking around. My eyes were slowly adjusting and I couldn’t see him anywhere. I leaned over the side of the bed – he wasn’t on the floor. I turned back around again and sat still concentrating on the area of SAG’s pillow.
There was Little Dude completely covering the pillow in a full body sleep-hug. And there was SAG, fast asleep with his head resting on Little Dude’s back.
I thought, well that doesn’t look too comfortable and almost stepped in to adjust the situation. But then I stopped myself. I mean, why be controlling when you can be comfortable with half of a king-size bed to yourself?
“Losing” Little Dude the second time was not quite as stressful as the first time, if for no other reason than I didn’t have to run through a public place yelling – “And he’s black, with a birthmark.”