Vaughn crawled into bed with us in the wee hours of the morning, again. Sleeping with him is like sleeping with an octopus with restless leg syndrome (RLS), or in the octopus's case, RAS (restless arm syndrome). He acts as a human divining rod for the nearest source of warmth, honing in with preternatural accuracy until he detects an adult body, usually mine. Despite the fact that we have a generous king sized bed, he manages to make it feel cramped, sprawling out like a chalk outline from a crime scene, with his fellow bedmates clinging perilously close to the edges of either side of the bed in an effort to escape the spastically thrown arm or leg flung their way. His excuse this particular time for invading our parental refuge was he thinks (dreamt?) there was an ape running around in our yard.
Yes, well, I believe he settled in our bed.
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