Despite a calculated belief that we knew what we were getting ourselves into, E. and I have been forced to acknowledge a noted spike in nighttime tomfoolery since my bed became ours.  We’ve been together for three somnially uneventful years, roommates for one month, and yet, two weeks ago the sound of my flailing arm smacking him in the forehead actually woke me up.  We engage in unconscious sheet tug-of war to the death.  Last night I opened one sleepy eye to find my shoulder smooshed into his mouth.

To his credit, E. has not been moved by this unfortunate turn of events.  He gently extracted my shoulder, kissed it lightly, and we fell back to sleep.