When I fantasize about taking a nap, I like to picture my favorite furry friend, or three, with me. They are cozy and cuddly with a touch of lazy, so they would seem to be perfect partners in sleep.
But, I’ve found that when trying to snuggle up with my pups, naps are anything but relaxing.
I love sleep. I always have. My mom said I used to put myself down for a nap until I was five. Now that I have two very active children, naps are pretty much nonexistent.
But, every once in a great while, at the time of a great solstice, when the planets are in harmony, and I perform an intricate dance ritual, I get to take a nap.
Oh, it’s glorious.
I approach my bed reverently, and slipping in between the sheets, I rest my head upon a soft cottony cloud, releasing a sigh of pure happiness.
Then, I hear it. A persistent scratch at the bedroom door. It swings open and seconds later I feel the weight of three small dogs as they leap on my bed.
You’d think they’d settle down and enjoy a little cuddle, because my dogs are magnetically attracted to anyone in repose. You would be wrong.
First, Tiny rucks up the covers, making a little bed for herself. Drawing them toward her chest, kicking them back, she twirls around and flops into a tight ball.
Closing my eyes… I drift off… and…. *slurp* *slurp* *slurp.* Twilight, my filth-hating canine, cannot stand the stench emanating from Sparkles’ ears and commences a thorough scrub of her floppy sound receptacles. While I appreciate her dedication to cleanliness, I really just want to take a nap.
Tiny doesn’t want to miss any of the licking action, so she sneaks her way up to my arm and licks my armpit. Shoving her away, I roll over and cover myself with the blankets. Nudging at the covers, the little ninja slips in and starts to lick my face. To thwart her, I throw a pillow over my head. I can’t breathe, but I am going to nap anyway, dammit.
Slowly suffocating, but still napping, I feel something slamming against my thighs and I hear the soft warbles of play growling. Seriously? Chewbacca, aka Sparkles, wants to fight. I am about to throw down if I can’t have a nap, but I don’t think that is what Sparkles had in mind.
I growl back at Sparkles and she settles down. The nap has to happen now, right? No.
Something has drawn their attention, and the wee devils for whom I have boundless love begin to bark. Is it a leaf? Perhaps a squirrel has trespassed in our backyard. Or, maybe a mouse living in my wall farted, disturbing them. Who knows. I really don’t care. I am losing precious seconds of somnolence.
Giving them my best Mom glare, they FINALLY settle down and fall asleep. I join them, slipping languidly into the most spectacular sleep. Gliding through my dreams, I find myself on a desert island, feeling the hot sun on my face. I wake in a sweat and wonder what happened.
The source of the inferno is obvious. I am covered by a blanket made out of dogs, warming my entire body more effectively than any electric blanket ever could. While I appreciate the love, I am not a fan of boob sweat, and these dogs are making me sweat from my boobs, armpits and ladyland unmentionables.
Shucking off my canine companions, I stretch and bask in the afterglow. Licks, barks, sweat and all, I HAD A NAP. Awww yeah.