My Divot

I love my bed. I love the fact that I have room to spread out. I love the pillow-top mattress and the little divot that has formed around my favorite sleeping spot. And the pillows? What can I say? They’re perfect, exactly the way I like them - not too old and not too new; not too flat, not too fluffy. Every morning I wake up feeling refreshed and rested and ready to face a new day. Every morning, that is, until today.

Today my back hurts, my neck is stiff, and I’m tired. How could this happen after spending the night in a place of perfect comfort? It all goes back to the divot. Mine is really more of a cradle. Inside my divot is a place of absolute sleeping perfection. As long as I am in my divot each night, life is good. So what happened to the divot last night? I remember it well. I started out in the divot. I know I did. It was just after 10:00 when I put my book down, reached up, and turned off the light. I rolled into place and settled into my favorite sleeping position, my divot holding me firmly, bringing comfort to my tired soul. And there I remained for the next few hours.

I didn’t even realize that my divot had been compromised until well after midnight. I knew something was wrong as I tossed and turned, but in my hazy, sleepy condition I was unable to identify the source of my discomfort. It took a crying baby to shake me out of my state of semi-consciousness. Only after the short fuss down the hall did I realize that I was sharing my divot. As I peeked one eye open to help me pinpoint the source of the disruption, I was enlightened by the fact that, snuggled into my divot, was my five-year-old son. He had somehow managed to evict me from my own divot mid-slumber.

Now that he had successfully moved in, I was left on the hill on the pillow-top mattress. (AKA: The Pill Hill) Of course, I wasn’t lucky enough to get the center Pill Hill. No, I had been banished to the side Pill Hill, the sliver of a hill that is nestled between my divot and the edge of the bed. It’s the hill that causes one to sleep in awkward positions to avoid rolling on top of a five-year-old while always remembering that tumbling out of bed and onto the floor is only one roll away.

By two a.m. I was missing my divot terribly. That was it, the game was over. I carefully placed my hands and feet on Zach’s back and legs and gently shoved him out of my divot and up onto the center Pill Hill. With my divot finally vacated, I rolled in and settled in for a well-deserved rest. Seconds later, what should come crashing down the center Pill Hill but my son! He had no regard for boundaries or personal space. I now had a choice: sleep with a child on my head, or resort to Sliver Mountain. I chose neither. This is my divot! I thought to myself and, doggone it, I’m going to sleep in it. So I once again began eviction proceedings. With my hands and feet in place, I carefully pushed until the little guy was once again on the center Pill Hill. Ahh...success!

Wait, no, correct that. Momentary success. No, not even that. I think it was actually less than a moment. With one quick roll, my divot was once again compromised. Wishing I was asleep and refusing to get out of bed in the middle of the night, I resigned myself to defeat. Beaten and dejected, I climbed back up Sliver Mountain and there I remained, unable to move for the next three hours.

We had a talk today, me and Zach. Now he knows that if he needs Mommy or Daddy in the middle of the night, he is more than welcome to come into our room…and sleep under the bed.