My wife and I don't actually share a bed at home. It's not because we're mad at each other—we're just protecting each other's sleep. She has late-night conversations with our cat, scrolls through TikTok until who-knows-when, and her restless legs seem convinced they're training for a marathon. To be fair, she has to put up with my snoring and the occasional farts, so we're both making sacrifices.
Vacations, though, are a different story. Suddenly we're back to sharing a bed, and every night becomes a new adventure.
The first night, I dreamed Mick Jagger and Keith Richards were playing "Jumpin' Jack Flash," except Keith couldn't get past an A major chord. He just kept playing it over and over. I finally woke up...only to realize my wife was snoring that exact note.
The next night I dreamed I was riding in the car with my dad. I became worried because it looked like he was falling asleep at the wheel. I'd look over, and his eyes would be open, but he kept making this strange puffing sound every few seconds. Then I woke up and discovered my wife was lying beside me, happily puff-breathing away in her sleep.
Another night I dreamed I was asleep in the hotel room while someone insisted on vacuuming in the middle of the night. Even in my dream I remember thinking, "Who vacuums at 2:00 in the morning?" My irritation finally woke me up, only to discover the "vacuum" was my wife making this combination of soft moans and puffing noises that my sleeping brain had somehow translated into a Hoover.
Then came the grand finale.
In the middle of the last night, I felt the mattress gently bouncing and heard rustling under the blankets. Half asleep, my brain immediately jumped to conclusions. I thought, "Well...this vacation just got unexpectedly interesting." I rolled over, ready to be the supportive husband I aspire to be.
Instead, there she was—completely asleep.
It wasn't her pleasuring herself. It was her restless legs putting on one final performance before checkout.
Now we're back home, sleeping in our separate beds once again. She gets to chat with the cat, watch TikTok, and let her legs audition for Riverdance. I get uninterrupted sleep and dreams that no longer feature vacuum cleaners, classic rock guitarists, or phantom midnight mysteries.
Sometimes the secret to a happy marriage isn't sleeping together. It's waking up well-rested.
