I swear it is not there when I get in at night. But inevitably, at some point, I awaken and there it is. Clinging to me. I am never sure where it will pop up--at my head, my feet, between my knees, under my back. It wraps it's little talon-like things around me, digs in and attaches. Every time I move, it comes even closer. Many nights I can hardly sleep because I wake up every time it moves between my body and that of my husbands. Some nights it brings a sister velcro along.
Each night, before bed, I swear I read it a story, give it a hug and kiss and tuck it into its own bed. This doesn't seem to matter, though, as it is not content to stay there. Some invisible noise or silent vision startles it awake, signaling mommy-seeking behavior. Yet it hunts me down.
It would not be so bad were it content to just stay close to me. But every time I wiggle, it wriggles in closer and if I get on my knees and hands a bit to try to change positions or move to a different spots, the suction power of its tentacles pulls it underneath me and then I really am stuck with no place to sleep. Especially on nights when the velcro, her sister, myself, my husband and a variety of household pets are all sharing the same full-sized bed. I am just glad that the smallest piece cannot yet climb out of its crib or open the door.
And now that winter-ish weather has presented itself, those little clingers are COLD and shock me awake with their warmth-seeking behavior.
So I retreat. I retreat to the couch before I am found. One time, I even went to the guest room/dump and cleared a spot. I have briefly considered discovering if I can sleep in a Velcro-sized bed because I am confident that that would be the one place it didn't try to find me.