Christmas Ghost: a bedtime story

The last several nights have been an imposition on our dogs and even our offspring who drove down from Los Angeles to spend Christmas with us. On random weekends, coronavirus shutdowns, and this year’s holiday season, Tommy has been able to snooze on our couch, and then leave after an early morning coffee with his mom. Waking on weekends before 6 AM, I usually assume we have a houseguest when I find neither Dexter nor Comet are curled up by my bedside. But the last few nights, a backache that began about two weeks ago forced me to take over the couch. While my back has been much relieved as a result, happily married couples do not sleep apart. And if one spouse does not get a good night’s rest both suffer.

However, our son sleeping on the living room floor the other night was probably not comfortable for his 30 -year old frame even with Dexter and Comet as blanket buddies. He went home that morning promising to return for Christmas a couple days from now. Though dull and domestic-sounding, we decided that a new bed would be the Christmas gift to ourselves.

We chose something called a Ghostbed as best choice for two different sleepers. I sleep on my back, and like firm support; it is likely those long ago Navy years aboard ship. When two similar boxes arrived by FedEx I thought it a little odd; truly this was a compact shipment as advertised though not what I was expecting. We seem to be missing some hefty parts?. This morning, Sheri and I wanted to get back to the sleeping routine, so we trundled out the old bedding to the obvious dismay of both dogs, and brought the boxes in. Have you ever tried to move bulky items through a narrow hall squeezing past while under the supervision of two big dogs? An idea on my part, to use the old frame until the new one arrived – they are apparently the same size. It became my job to set up the new mattresses and bring the other back inside again.

Christmas spirits not withstanding, if I had not volunteered/ chosen the task this morning, it is unlikely I would have slept on the couch tonight. Move over, Dexter. Part of that blanket’s mine, Comet.


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