I woke up for the usual reasons (bathroom trip, roll over) only to discover that, at some point, Pooh had commandeered my body pillow. He was in control of it enough that I couldn't flip over with it. He'd also somehow kicked the blankets down the bed AND trapped them under himself so he was freezing and I had what I'd managed to hold on to in the process.
I'm proud of my subconscious in this situation.
Eventually I was able to nudge him off enough to regain more control, but then his leg came out of nowhere to try and take full possession of my pillow. I blocked him, and he finally rolled over, freeing my pillow and the blankets simultaneously. Poor guy must've had a rough night to have moved around that much. And to seek comfort from my body pillow (he usually hates that thing. And if you're reading this, Pooh: I was officially not on your side of the bed, and neither was the pillow) - I just don't know what to say except I wish I'd been conscious when he was getting ready for work to ask him about it.
All that pillow and blanket brawling wore me out. I'm going back to bed. Ah the luxuries of not-yet being a mom.
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