J’adore le câliner

Okay, this isn’t going to be a two-hour, 2000+ word post. It’s going to be short and, I think, really quite sweet.

It’s a comment on the wonders of the subconscious.

Before we went to France, it was generally me loading up Maisie’s bowl and staying at his place one night a week and him loading up Ember’s bowl and leaving the radio on to keep her company so he could stay at my place one night a week. After France, after falling asleep 28 night and waking up 28 mornings in his arms, that no longer cut it.

I had to look up the French word for cuddling. Câliner. And, yes, I do love cuddling with him.

So, as I wrote the other day, France made it clear that falling asleep and waking up needed to involve both of us in the same bed in the future. Another reason I am now taking Maisie over there every week for at least two, usually three nights. Lovely.

Now, here’s the thing. The first morning I woke up in my own bed, after three nights in his, I awoke to the discovery that somehow in the night, in my sleep, I’d shifted the other two pillows so they were no longer at the head of the bed, but stretched out beside me.

And it keeps happening. Every night when I’m at home, I go to sleep with four pillows at the top of the bed. Every morning, I wake up with two of those pillows beside me.

It seems my subconscious need for something to cuddle is quite powerful.

Ain’t that something?