The Great Blanket Debate

Our bed has two blankets. This is not a romantic, cinematic choice — it’s survival. We’ve tried sharing. We’ve tried tucking, folding, negotiating. Every time, one of us ends up in the middle of the night clutching a scrap of fabric like a shipwreck survivor.

Now, we each have our own. His: heavy, warm, like a wearable hibernation cave. Mine: light, airy, perfect for sprawling. It’s not picture-perfect, but it works. And honestly, I think it’s kind of the secret to our peace.

Because love isn’t always about sharing everything. Sometimes it’s about knowing when to keep your own blanket — and still ending up in the same bed.