Last night at bedtime, I found myself laying on top of the covers with the ceiling fan on while I read a book. After a couple minutes, my head started getting hot. So I went downstairs to lower the thermostat by 2 degrees. I pass my husband along the way and tell him this. His eyebrows shoot up. "Really?! You're too hot and I'm not?"
For years now, the thermostat battle in this house has been based on me always wanting it warmer and him always wanting it cooler. The "happy marriage" blanket on our bed has been this twin size, very heavy, very warm biscuit quilt I made in college. Pretty much year round, this blanket is on just my side of the bed and we can both sleep comfortably.
Last night, for the first time in the history of our marriage, my sweet hubby got up in the middle of the night to add the biscuit quilt to HIS side of the bed. And first thing this morning, I noticed that I had kicked off my covers and he was still under the biscuit quilt! Very strange happenings around here.
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