|Monty, looking innocent|
Actually, he's a bed hog. (Get it? Tee hee.)
Monty sleeps in between The Guy and I. He has two positions he likes to take. One: straight horizontal. Head against The Guy, butt aimed at me, legs splayed front and back. Two: straight vertical. Back against The Guy, feet pushing at me. He takes up a lot of space.
Now I usually can keep my half of the bed. Our own personal bed hog means that The Guy is lucky if he can keep a third. If The Guy moves at all, Monty is moving with him. Which means, over the course of the night, Monty nearly pushes The Guy off the bed.
I have been sleeping on my own side, so I didn't really notice how bad it had gotten. This week I spent more time trying to make sure Monty stayed more in the middle. To give The Guy a break.
It worked. The Guy had his half of the bed back. And instead of being crowded, he instead got assaulted. The first night, I flung a hand out in my sleep and smacked him in the nose. The second night, I moved my arm and punched him in the face. The third night? I brought my elbow down straight on the top of his head at six in the morning.
I realized that Monty wasn't trying to take over the bed all this time. He was trying to protect The Guy from my flailing limbs.