The General

   One of the many joys of my aging experience is interrupted sleep. My middle-aged boobs slide into my throat and choke me if I lie on my back, and when on my side, boobs from all directions pool onto my upper arm, cutting off circulation in the middle of the night. Add to this bed, pre-arthritic hips, a thrashing husband and an obese cat and you’ve got yourself a daily nightmare that you’re wide awake to enjoy.

     What caught my eye in the store one day was the Peaceful Sleep Ultra-Pampering Body Pillow, 100% soft cotton, $19.99. The picture on the package was a perfectly-coiffed woman in lip gloss, sleeping peacefully while snuggling her Body Pillow. That could be me! Surely this was the Ultra-Pampering answer to my problem. I lifted one from the caged display and tucked it under my arm.  It was 5 feet long and flapped like a giant quilted cod as I bounced to checkout.

Night #1:  I stripped it of its plastic sheath and admired it. Behold my downy relief! Here lay the imposing 5-foot conquerer, like Napoleon himself. I named it The General. When bedtime arrived, I positioned The General under the sheets with care. I crawled in beside it and clamped my knees around its midsection. Like the woman on the packaging, I hugged the upper end, and snuggled. My feet? Okay, there you go. Readjust. Better. Re-snuggle. What’s that? The “under penalty of law do not remove” tags are crinkling beneath my ear. Really? Roll out of bed like a turtle on her back, flip The General around, tuck it in, re-enter bed, clamp knees, position feet, snuggle. Aaaahhhh!!

~ 3 hours later, I turn over. With much effort, I lug The General with me. Reposition, snuggle, etc. etc. Husband thrashes and turns over. Resume sleeping.

~ 3 hours later, the cat is looking for his nightly nesting spot against my neck, but The General is in his way. He begins to scratch at The General, 4 inches from my face, until I shove The General southward to make room for him. Cat curls up. Purring. Loudly. The General is creating odd bulk at my feet. Husband’s CPAP machine droning on. Resume sleeping.

~ 2 hours later, it is daylight. I wake up and stare at the ceiling. The General has me in an anaconda-like grip and the cat is asleep in my crotch.

Night #2:  I position and snuggle The General, careful to leave cat space at the top, with the tags I forgot to remove bunched up at the bottom of the bed. Cat curls into place. Aaaaahhh!!

~ 3 hours later, husband comes to bed. I awake to see that the cat is sprawled across his side of the bed. He shoves cat. Cat crosses over me and curls against my back. Husband crawls into bed, and starts shoving at The General who has also poached his space. I finally roll over, dragging The General with me, reposition, snuggle etc.

~ 3 hours later, I awake. I’m sweating. The General is making me hot. Cat is snoring; CPAP is hissing. I roll over, kick leg out of the covers, reposition, etc. etc. etc. Cat clings to edge of the bed and resumes snoring.

~ 2 hours later. Husband is in the guest room, cat is sprawled and snoring on his half of the bed. The General is tangled up in my legs, immobilizing me in a full Nelson. I wrestle it out of the bed and throw it on the floor. Ultra-Pampering is the pits.