Welcome to The Great Sleep-Cuddle Debate of 2012. (We only talk about the real issues here at P&P.)
Position 1: I’ve been kicking people bigger than you out of bed since I was two. (Penny)
Cuddling is like extended hugging, and we know how I feel about hugging. Still, given the right circumstances, cuddling can be on the superlative side of pleasant.
When it comes time to sleep, however…
If I turn my back to you, it is not because I am rejecting you, it is because I sleep on my side (and don’t want to breathe in your face).
If I scooch away from your octopode-like appendages, it is not because I am rejecting you, it is because you are warm and I sleep best a little cold.
If I want the outside, it’s not because I’m looking for an easy escape route (though, maybe?), it is for your own personal safety: I’ve been kicking people out of bed since I was two. (No joke: Mini-Penny + Queen Bed = ALL THE SPACE as Cousin thumps to the floor. And that’s how we do. Diagonally.)
Really, a possessive sleeper and I are never going to work out. If he can’t even let me sleep on my own side of the bed, he’ll never understand my desire to designate a weekly Radio Silence Day.
Position 2: Ladies can be the big spoon. This is the 21st century. (Polly)
My theory is that I’m actually a cold blooded, part-reptile, human/alligator freak of nature. It would explain why I haven’t had a fever since I was eight, why few things make me happier than extended periods of summer sun basking with intermittent breaks for seafood, and why I turn into a popsicle every time I try to fall asleep. Also my hands and feet routinely inspire dermatologists to search rare-disease tomes for keywords: dry, scaly, freakishly reptilian, tropical fungi, etc.
The cuddle solution is perfect. It’s like having a muscley electric blanket that tells you you’re pretty. (Product development idea??)
Though many cuddle positions can be pleasant (I’m not a sleep-thrasher like Penny, I can stay still for quite some time. See: alligator.) ((Unless I’m suffering a bout of crippling anxiety. In that case, stay away and don’t expect to be able to wrestle the covers from me.)) I’m a huge fan of sporking. It’s like spooning but you both acknowledge you have legs instead of merpeople fins. And let’s not limit ourselves to traditional cuddle roles. Being the big spoon (or spork) is really comfortable! Cosmo agrees so it must be true.
There is also no need to confine yourself to one sleep-cuddle position for the entire night. One of my favorite, FAVORITE, things is when both parties half-consciously transition to a new arrangement. “Oh right, you’re here and you’re warm! [smooch] Zzzzzzz.” The best.
My opponent raises a good point – breathing in each other’s faces can be dangerous, especially if one is prone to morning breath. But with good oral hygiene habits and a glass of water on the night stand for emergency swishing, the face-to-face cuddle is very enjoyable and conducive to drowsy kisses. The only issue: what to do with the inside arms? As always, xkcd has an answer for that.
Position 3: All the blankets are mine now, sorry. (Molly)
I am exceptionally frozen almost all the time, bedtime being the worst time of all. I am a proponent of the warm cuddle/warm blanket/warm fuzzy socks* bedtime arrangement, though I will inevitably have a hot flash at approximately 2-3 am and get totally naked and throw off all cuddles/blankets/fuzzy socks until around 7 am, when I am freezing again and grumpy because now I don’t have any blankets and I can’t find my fuzzy socks in the tangle of sheets and you are all the way on the other side of the bed and everything is horrible and I am SO COLD. Basically Molly is the worst person to share a bed with, sorry LTR partner and any other bedmates she may have in the future. #TruthBombs
Position 4: Paralyzed by the Catch-22. (Circe)
I love the sleep-cuddle! But for me it is never a sleep-cuddle. I enjoy the cuddle immensely, but I can’t actually get any sleep while wrapped in your multitudinous limbs. Still yet am I unable to push you away to ensure a few hours of restful REM.
So I don’t really love the sleep-cuddle. But I do love the laying-awake-in-a-comfy-knot-of-arms-and-legs-cuddle.
A day of yawning and some gratuitous use of my undereye corrector? A sacrifice I am more than willing to make.
*It is worth noting that both Polly and Molly have large containers (a crate and a basket, respectively) for their extraneous fuzzy socks. Neither of them have enough room in their matching Ikea Malm dressers for their unreasonable collection of footwarmers. Polly actually wrote a song in honor of fuzzy socks, sung to the tune of Taps.
Fuzzy socks, fuzzy socks, fuzzy socks
Previously: The Great Hugging Debate of 2012