How Many Beds is Too Many?

… 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.

Rosie (and Mr. Bill) in her “official” bed.

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.

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