Home OP-ED This Place Is Fit for Cats, Not Humans

This Place Is Fit for Cats, Not Humans

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Sleeping Persian Cat. Photo: Linda K Koelbel / publicdomainpictures.net
Alexandra Vaillancourt
Alexandra Vaillancourt

Dateline Boston — Husband and I took a trip. A weekend away… When was the last time we did that? I can’t remember. We brought our air mattress with us so as not to inconvenience our hosts in New York City. On the way to New York, we stopped at our friends’ house in Connecticut. We’d visit with them, crash at their place, and continue on our way the next morning.

On the way to Connecticut, I texted our host friend Amy. She told us that our bed was all ready. “Wow!” I texted. “We get a bed? We brought our air mattress!” She didn’t know that we would have an air mattress, so she had fixed up a bed. I told her we’d take it.

We arrived at the house and were brought up to the guest room where we would be staying. There was the bed, beautifully made, with two pillows, a blanket, and a fluffy down comforter. Upon further inspection, we observed that it was a daybed, with a twin-sized mattress. I think I grimaced. Amy said, “My brother and his girlfriend slept here. You small people can fit!” My grimace turned into a smile. “Sure!” You don’t look a gift bed in the mouth. What Amy didn’t know was that Husband requires space when he sleeps. I knew this, of course, but I figured I’d make the best of it and try to sleep on the very edge of the single bed.

It started out okay. I gave Husband space, and we went to sleep. At 1 a.m., I woke up because it felt like Husband was tossing and turning. I knew he wouldn’t really be getting a great sleep. He was the one who would be driving us to New York. I sacrificed myself and prepared to sleep on the floor. I picked up a pillow and dragged the comforter off of Husband. He didn’t even notice.

I put the comforter on the wood floor and folded it over like a sleeping bag. When I lay down on it, I felt the floor. It was very hard, as a good wood floor should be. Not so much for a bed. In desperation, I got the folded towels that had been put out for our use and put them on the comforter so my hips and shoulders would be padded. I tried again. This time it wasn’t so bad. After a minute, my body conformed to the towels. I sank into my new bed. Ahhh.

This Will Floor You

As soon as I got comfortable, I realized I had to pee. I fought between my body’s desire to sleep and the natural urge to relieve myself. The bathroom won. I opened the door, trying not to wake Husband. The house we were staying in was a traditional colonial, right down to the handles on the door. There wasn’t a doorknob; instead, a thumb latch that made a lot of noise when pressed.

I returned to my makeshift bed and settled in. Husband was tossing and turning again. I thought he must be realizing I wasn’t in the bed. I whispered, “Honey!” He was startled awake. “Huh? Wha?” Dude didn’t even realize I was gone. Humph. I told him I was on the floor, and went to sleep. I managed to sleep for four hours! When I woke up and checked the time, it was 5 a.m. I figured Husband had gotten a good night’s sleep so I got into the bed again, shoving him against the decorative wooden frame.  Ahh, what a bed! It was like sleeping in a luxury hotel.

We both woke up at 7, ready to start the day. Husband felt terrible that I had slept on the floor. But I knew he had to drive. So it wasn’t a big deal to me. I have slept on sidewalks for concert tickets.

We thanked our friends for putting us up for the night and enjoyed a delicious breakfast before heading to our final destination. Next time we go to New York, we’ll get our air mattress out of the car. Colonial design is fascinating. But I think I’ll leave the wooden floors to the cats.

Ms. Vaillancourt may be contacted at snobbyblog@gmail.com

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