George snores. He denies it, but it's true. And when he snores, I can't sleep. So we have a routine. I read in bed while he falls asleep; then I move to another room to sleep.
For a long time, I moved to Nick's room because he slept with Jack, but now the boys sleep in their own rooms. For the past month or so, I slept on the living room sofa because, get this, Nick didn't want me sleeping in the guest room.
You see, the guest room is in the far corner of the finished basement, which is big and dark and scary at night. Nick didn't want to wake in the night, need me, and have to go to the basement to find me.
Never mind that Nick hasn't woken me up at night since he was three years old (he's 13 now). Never mind that I offered to leave a few basement lights on at night. Never mind that mom was sleeping on the sofa while the rest of the family...even the dog...slept in real beds.
Last night, I went to the basement. George encouraged me to take the dog, so I did. Daisy snuggled beside me on the guest bed, her head on the pillow. As I started to drift off, I heard it.
No. It wasn't possible.
Yes. Yes. She was.
Daisy was snoring.
I cannot win.