Ooops
Chris and I usually sleep with two pillows each: one behind our heads, and another between our legs or under our knees, depending on our sleeping positions. The leg pillow is intended to assist with our backs, and we’ve slept this way for years now.
The pillow I use for my legs is a soft one that I lugged home all the way from Taiwan. I’d slept on a hard pillow at my grandmother’s house and wanted to buy one just like it, but it wasn’t until after I purchased my pillow that she told me hers was hard because it had been slept on for twenty years. Since I couldn’t use my Taiwanese pillow for twenty years, I decided to use it for my legs while I waited.
A few nights ago I was on the verge of falling asleep when I suddenly decided Chris must’ve accidentally switched our leg pillows. I reached down and experimentally felt my pillow. It felt harder than usual, and not quite right. Maybe Chris had my pillow.
Rather than waking Chris up, I reached between his legs and felt for the pillow. I touched something soft and gave it a good squeeze.
Chris bolted upright.
“What the hell are you pinching my balls for?” he yelled.
And just like that, I was fully awake.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” I said.
“Ow, ow, ow!” Chris yelped.
“I thought it was your pillow,” I tried to explain.
Chris rolled over on his side, away from me.
“Stay away from me,” he ordered. “Ow!”
I was genuinely remorseful. I also wanted desperately to laugh, but I felt pretty certain that half-muffled guffaws were not going to go over well right now with Chris.
I usually don’t do strange things like this, unless I’m under the influence of prescription medicine, but Chris regularly does strange things while he’s asleep.
But probably the only thing he’s done that has even remotely approached my ball-pinching occurred one night when I came back from using the bathroom and climbed back into bed.
Chris was facing away from me, and as I got close enough to spoon him, he casually reached a hand around me, patted my left buttock, firmly grasped the edge of my underpants on that side and picked out the wedgie. Then he reached over to the right side, picked out the wedgie, and patted my right buttock. All while sleeping.
Now, neither of us is allowed to share a bed with anyone else under any condition. I’m not talking about having affairs, but even just sharing a bed with a friend or family member while, say, camping or to save on hotel fees. Because after the years of sleeping together, Chris and I could cause permanent damage to the unsuspecting person who shares a bed with one of us.
Posted by: ssjane | June 3, 2006 | 9:30 am
Posted in: This Life