… because Rosie has … um, four. If you count mine as one of hers, which it pretty much is. And she totally hogs it, too. She sleeps diagonally so I am squooshed into the corner in a fetal position with no blankets.
And it’s never like I feel I have the right to ask her to move. If I do, I’m always really quiet, so as not to disturb her.
“Um, Rosie, I’m sorry to bother you, but can you please just go over there a little so my face isn’t pressed up against the wall? My lip is literally asleep. I think it’s actually blue.”
No movement, no acknowledgement, not a care in the world.
And you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.