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Lone Tree [Change Location]

Blog Entry 153 of 181 Suburban Dementia
Expect me to write about the convergence of random events, the persistence of memory (Dali's melting version), juxtaposition of opposites, the phenomena of unintended consequences, and the mundane details of my life. Mostly, I expound on the absurdities of life in general, but the suburbs in particular.

Catpile diplomacy


Our current marital conflict has to do with sharing the bed.

My husband and I never disagreed on Family Bed contractual stipulations.

1. Nursing infants - always permitted, if anyone in the household intends getting sleep.

2. Toddlers -- limited access, allowable under the following:

  1. a. Thunderstorms.

    b. Nightmares, especially when you accidentally let him catch a glimpse of a cinematic ax murder and you thought he wasn't paying attention.

  2. c. Parents too exhausted to carry him back or even notice he climbed in

3. Family bed officially over when both parents stiffly wake clinging to opposite sides of the bed frame, a child's body spread horizontally between them.

4. Thereafter, sleeping bags on the floor only in the event of puking, croup, or fever.

Since our children no longer find comfort (or, in the case of siblings, amusement) sticking their feet into someone else's face, we're working on an agreement regarding the cats, Scratchy and Itchy.

I admit I am a pack animal, sleeping blissfully with Scratchy against my chest, 14-pound gelatinous Itchy morphed around my feet, and my husband at my back. We are long past the bothersome kitten phase of pawing your nose or nibbling your toes after depositing toy (and occasionally, living) mice in the blankets.

Trained to discard their nocturnal nature, the cats maintain their assigned positions throughout the night, unless removed. If I have a stomachache or leg cramp, I might shift one up or down a few inches, acting as hot water bottles. Sleepily scratching their ears activates the massage feature.

Also, to their credit, they disregard cat common law requiring rubbing against anyone allergic or adverse to feline presence; they never encroach on my husband's side of the bed. Still, he believes interspecies sleeping arrangements unnatural and unhygienic. I point out how much we save on energy costs, turning the thermostat down.

We're test-running a couple times a week catpile compromise. When I open the bedroom door after a Cats Night Out, they are seated like sphinx bookends outside, staring at me indignantly for excluding them from negotiations.

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Showing 1-9 of 9 comments

Spike the cat just had his firepower removed permanently. He has not been very happy with me.

Cats and my wife's and my allergies do not get along.

Dear Can Opener Number One, While our previous attempts to assinate you (and/or Can Opener Number Two) by cleverly weaving around your feet while you are walking have been unsuccessful, we are forming a plan to try doing so again, but from the top of the stairs. This is not an idle threat. We simply would like you and Can Opener Number Two to reconsider your position on the sleeping arrangements. Sincerely, Itchy and Scratchy

We have two cats, and one is good at letting us know to let her out if she needs to visit her box when the door is shut. The other one isn't allowed in anymore when the door is shut, "Fool me once..." you know the saying. I have enjoyed the warmth on cold feet a few times.

my little dog prefers sleeping collar-style around my neck. thus, his nights allowed in bed with us when we first got him were few. if kitties don't encroach on hubby's space and offer you nocturnal company, what the heck?

Our dogs are equally miffed when the door has been closed. The youngest one hops on the bed asap "Dad" gets up in the morning, and, as soon as she hears me stir, stands over me until I give in and get up. I don't sleep in much, obviously!

The last time a cat was in our bed, she peed on my husband's feet. The time before that, Caesar peed on my husband's feet. These two incidents are a decade apart, and with two unaffiliated cats in different states. When a cat enters our room, the evening usually ends with 3 am laundering and amonia-scented toedigits.

I'm detecting a Simpson's influence.

I couldn't agree more on your well expressed points when inviting the kids into bed. At our house though, it's my husband who welcomes the cats into our bed at night. I figure it's justified since I have the thermostat turned down so low to compensate for my hot flashes.
Showing 1-9 of 9 comments