Breaking the Seal

I told Cynthia I’d write an entire blog about this.

Last night, I was asleep, snug and very warm in my bed, wearing my long pajama pants, my long-sleeved t-shirt, and my hella-ugly fuzzy socks. You know the ones. (EVERY day, people! ;)

I was under the sheet, my thermal blankie, a fleece blanket, and on top of it all was the comforter. As the temperature goes down, I add progressively more blankets to the top of my bed. You should have seen me when we lived in Colorado. I slept in a hooded sweatshirt. And I wore the hood.

Even in the summer, I usually have at least one blanket on the bed. My ‘just in case’ blanket. You know…just in case the temperature in our part of Texas drops down below 97 degrees in August. Or just in case hell freezes over.

I hate to be cold, especially when I’m trying to sleep. In fact, I’m kind of looking forward to menopause just so I can have some of those ‘hot flashes’ I’ve heard so much about.

Phil, on the other hand, HATES having that many blankets on the bed. He is much more warm-natured, and can seriously sleep in the dead of winter with just a sheet. As a result, most of the blankets end up piled on my side of the bed, which creates a perfect little warm cocoon for me to sleep in.

Now, last night, Phil didn’t get home until about 12:30 a.m. because he was in Salado, out at my grandparents’ house, working on his deer with my brother. So when he got home, I was out cold (warm?), having re-instated my early morning workouts with a friend.

I was practically comatose when he got home, and just barely managed to open my eyes and mumble… “Where’s my meat?” when he came into the bedroom. Oh stop it, people. The deer meat?!

He assured me it was safely stowed in the freezer, and then came to get in bed. And when he pulled back the covers, a frigid blast of Arctic air rushed into my warm little cave. Hmmm… maybe we should turn up the heater.

I tried very hard to not be cranky. I mean, he *had* just spent hours, (after being at work all day) working to bring home the bacon…er…backstrap. And *I* had spent the evening, after putting the kids to bed, watching ‘The Biggest Loser’ season premiere and eating a pudding cup. Which *felt* a little bit wrong, but was still strangely satisfying.

So… the seal of awesome warmth and comfy coziness was broken. When I was telling Cynthia about it this morning, that’s what she called it anyway…. Breaking the seal. And mentioned that it would make a good Seinfeld episode. Well, if it hadn’t gone off the air over a decade ago, I guess.

Whatever the case, my impenetrable blanket fortress was no more. And I was awake for the foreseeable future.

Which was, admittedly, about two minutes. But it was two minutes where I briefly considered if my sleeping bag would fit underneath all those blankets.