A couple nights ago, as I was dreaming of unicorns eating flowers under a rainbow of butterflies, a large, rough hand grabbed my shoulder with such force that I abruptly awoke. My eyes shot open in fear and my instincts kicked in. My fists began to fly and I was fending off the villain with extreme force. Suddenly I heard a whimper to my right. My poor, sleeping husband was being attacked by none other than me while all he wanted was me to stay close to him.
I've been asked a few times what is the biggest adjustment to being married. Welp, one of the hardest things about being married is sharing my bed with another person. And I think that's the problem -- I brought my bed, that I've had for probably 8 years, to our apartment. I'm still in that mindset that it's my bed and I can lay wherever I darn-well please. Therefore, my poor, unsuspecting husband is unprepared for the fury that lies within these sleepy fists. And believe me, your don't want to be on the wrong side of these fists in the middle of the night when I think I'm being kidnapped by a masked murderer.
Lucky for me, he still loves me a little.