There Were 6 in the Bed and the Little One said.....

..."I don't have any room, here.". Yeah, me either. Go to your own bed, kid. How can we have 6 when we are a family of 4 you ask? Are we taking in random strangers from the street to keep them warm?

No, we are not.

If we did, I would at least make them sleep on the couch, anyway. I have some rules, you know.

The 6 I speak of are as follows:
Me.
Husband.
85 pound snoring dog.
50 pound farting dog.
8 year old daughter.
5 year old daughter.
That makes 6.
and 2 of them do NOT belong.
They are stow-away sleepers that sneak in during the night and creep up from the bottom of the bed, searching for a little crack or crevice to snuggle into.

When I went to bed, around 10:00 I had the whole king size bed to myself. All the pillows. All the blankets. So lovely. Shortly after that, Rufus, the snoring dog, joined me. This was good. I was cold. He is warm. We drifted off together. The best part about sleeping with Rufus, is that he offers me some protection. You see, my husband is a Blanket Thief. He first takes all the covers by rolling them around himself when he gets cold. Sort of a cocoon, if you will. To be expected when he turns the heat down to 40 degrees and the ceiling fan on to turbo speed. Whatever.... I have learned to keep an extra blanket on my side for such emergencies. Always be prepared, and all that.

Now, his cocoon gets too warm, so he then tosses his blankets (which started out as my blanket) on the floor on his side of the bed. Our room, due to his temperature regulations and fan controls, is arctic tundra like. So he gets cold. Again. And he steals my second emergency set of blankets. This can go on all night with as many sets of blankets as I stock up on. He will steal pillows as well. Right out from under my sleeping head. Because it's not like I was using it or something. In the morning, I have not one cover, and he is cocooned up like a bug-in-a-rug with a pile of discards 4 feet high on his side of the bed.

I so love my husband as my frostbitten extremities are sloughing off on my way to the shower since I wake up almost 2 hours before him and the heat isn't even on yet.

Enter Rufus, the farting 85 pound boxer. He gets in bed. He insists on placing himself directly next to me. in the middle. on top of the blankets. You ever try to steal blankets with an 85 lb dead weight on them? Yeah, not so easy. Then, add Izzy who sneaks in during the middle of the night, at 50 lbs. Those blankets are going NOWHERE BABY! I am warm, and victorious! Muhahahahahaha! {that is my evil laugh. I am The Beast Master!} Ok, so I have to sleep with ear plugs and a gas mask, but some times a victory has its costs.

Now, we have become accustomed to this battle of the boxers each night. Ira comes to bed, drags them where they need to be, and no longer steals my covers. But the bed is full, there is no room at the Inn. Maximum capacity has been reached.

I woke up this morning. There was something on my head. It was another head. It was a very warm, fury and possibly drooling head. It was a very heavy head. There was a very small body, belonging to my 5 year old daughter, to my right, next to my alarm clock. She had some sharp bony appendage in my ribs. Another pair of bony parts was in the middle of my thigh. My legs were land-locked from another dog. and I had no covers.


***{Disclaimer: This picture is from Google. As much time as my dogs spend in my bed, they see the camera and they get all excited and jump out. They will not stay for a picture. Plus, my boxers are much cuter. Sorry if these are your dogs or something.}