My side of the bed

H and I, like most couples, chose a side of the bed and stuck to it when we first moved in together.  I was on the left, he was on the right.  People, it seems, claim their side of the bed and guard it cautiously, building up mountains of stuff by their night tables, their kleenex boxes, their pictures, their little glasses of water and leisurely reading -- all a sign to say 'Keep Off,' like a dog marks his territory with a raised leg and an attempt at aim.  I began this ritual, too - it only seemed natural - until one night I headed into the bedroom to crawl to sleep, shuffling through the door wearily, only to find that my husband had firmly but innocently stretched himself a bit too far into my territory.  I shoved him a little and whined, but then he raised the ante.  He gestured to the alarm.  Our only alarm.  On my side.  What if we switched just for the night?  He had to get up later than me.  He could be responsible for the alarm and let me sleep.  At first, I firmly shook my head.  I was shocked.  The nerve!  Proposing to sleep on my side!  And what if I need one of my many...things here on the night stand in the middle of the night?  But he was unbudgeable and I was tired.  So, I crawled over to his side huffily and fell asleep.  Somehow, though, I found that I liked being on the other side.  It was away from the door and closer to the window.  It felt cozy and protective, and, it was true, I didn't have to worry about the constant beeping in the morning.

We now switch off regularly - depending on who has to get up earlier, who goes to bed first, and just how we feel.  I've even started rotating the pillows we use.  We have a flat one and a fluffy one.  He takes whichever strikes my fancy slightly less on any given night, sometimes with a groan, but mostly with a shrug and a lazy blink.  I wonder if it'll stay like this, rotating, playing musical bed-side into the years.  The most logical solution might just be to get another alarm.  But what's the fun in that, hmmm?