Day 21

For the first couple of days with the king-sized comforter, I began to think that my blog would need to be renamed "18 Days of Evidence." While my feet remained covered last night, however, the crime streak continues. The collateral damage is less obvious, but the cover thief has not changed his ways. Some would say he has gotten WORSE, since the amount of covers he needs to actually hoard has increased and he's keeping up with the demand. So, the study continues...

Day 18

The sun is out AND the covers are virtually undisturbed. Miracles do happen! This is the kind of evidence I like to gather.

Day 17

After posting last night, it occurred to me that I have never shared with you a "before" photo of the bed. It's hard to truly appreciate the severity of the infractions when you have nothing to compare them to. Here it is, folks. As you can see, there are literally FEET of extra blankets to cover each side of the bed. This guy works hard.

To be fair, there has been another change of late. The observant reader will once again notice a change to the duvet cover. When we swapped out to the king size duvet, the only cover we had was a queen, leaving much of the duvet wadded up inside. We finally got a king-sized cover, and now it can stretch across the bed in all its enormous glory, with oodles to spare. I cling to the hope (not unlike I do to the blankets) that this change will eradicate his midnight misdemeanors.

Day 16

Thank you, dear reader, for your concern about my absence. Alas, there is no danger of my partner smothering me with the duvet, since that would require him to share enough of it to cover my face. Not likely.

It has been some time since I posted, but I unfortunately had nothing new to report and crazy mornings with the three-year-old meant stopping for a photo was not an option. I did manage to take a shot this morning though, and even though it's almost not today anymore, I thought I would share this latest installment. As you can see, nothing has changed...

Day 10

Caught in the act! Despite all his talk about evidence-tampering, I woke up this morning to my partner pulling the covers back over my feet as he was getting out of bed. Under normal circumstances, this gesture may seem thoughtful and sweet. But I know better. The man was disturbing a crime scene. He clearly can't even live with his own guilt (or perhaps just the public persecution that goes along with it). Ah well. At least my feet were warm for my last few minutes in bed.

Day 9

Well, it's been over a week now. We've seen some ups and downs and this morning's results are definitely promising - if you take them at face value.

Observant readers may have noticed a change in the comforter a couple of days ago. Since my partner has moved in, we have slowly been unpacking boxes and recently unearthed his king-sized duvet (the blue one we had before was a queen). The mattress was also swapped out for his when he moved in (we had a full, now it's a queen). So, the king comforter should provide that little extra something hanging over each side of the bed - and it does - when we fall asleep each night. Still somehow, aside from the distinct color change, we end up with photos that make it impossible to discern the transition between the different sized comforters. He says I should be impressed with how seamlessly the effect has been, considering how much harder he now has to work. You have to hand it to him - he's quick.

Day 8

When you're at war, it's important to have allies.

These guys helped me hold down the fort (er - I mean covers) last night. Of course, it meant that I was confined to a fetal position, but we all have to make compromises...

Day 7

Excuse #3: I am *pushing* the covers off of my side onto his.

One of my partner's go-to excuses when presented with the evidence each morning is that I "push the covers onto him" while I am sleeping and he has no choice but to take up the slack. It's his version of the quintessential "I was framed!" excuse. I ask you (in my best Jack Palance voice), "Believe it...or not?"

Day 5

Nothing much to report this morning. On weekends, my partner is not in such a rush to leave the house, so I'm not left among the ruins of the bed linens long enough to proceed with the process of documentation and cataloging. Looks like this blog will end up being a Monday-Friday endeavor. Stay tuned...

Day 4

Miracle? Genuine change? Anomaly? Whatever the reason, I woke to find the covers nearly intact (at least covering my feet) this morning. Whoo-hoo! I'm all for positive reinforcement, so here's the evidence:

Fingers crossed for tomorrow!

Day 3

Excuse #2: The evidence has been tampered with.
Last night, I started to get paranoid that my partner might be hurt or insulted by me creating this blog. When I asked him about it, his response was, "No, because it's all fiction." I remind myself that denial is often the inevitable first stage in healing.

This morning while he was getting dressed, I asked him to examine the crime scene with his own eyes. Even before getting out of bed myself, my frozen toes bore testimony to the fact that his cover-gluttony had once again left them undeniably yanked over to his side. Despite the clarity of my case, his response was to accuse me of tampering with the evidence. The mere implication that I would stoop to such levels is insulting. You be the judge:

(Even the cat can sense the injustice!)

Day 2

Excuse #1 - The covers get messed up is because of the cats.
Hmmmmm. The cats essentially function as extremely dense, hairy bookends when they're on the bed, anchoring the covers in whatever state they find them. Thus, as far as excuses go, this one is obviously pretty lame. If anything, waking up to see one of the boys on the bed further validates the truth. It's almost as if he was trying to preserve the evidence of the previous nights' injustice...

Day 1

Like so many things in a relationship, when my partner and I first started sharing a bed, we were both on our best behavior. The bed was made up religiously. Candles stood on the nightstand. We spooned regularly... And most importantly, we took care to share the covers equally.

But alas, that was long ago.

Now that we live together, all bets are off. We sweep off the crusties dragged into the bed by the two overstuffed cats and the preschooler (each of whom think the bed is theirs), crawl under the covers and often pass out before even saying goodnight. This loss of romance is hard enough without the frozen toes and tush resulting from the unapologetic sheet-stealing which has become a nightly occurrence.

None of this would be so bad if the offending party were a big enough person to admit his transgressions. But instead, I get nothing but denial and (sometimes creative) excuses. This blog is the natural response to the resulting frustration (and frozen toes). Here, I will document said cover-stealing and excuses. Nothing motivates change like public humiliation, I always say. Let's start with today's wake-up photo:

(In case you are unsure, my side is the one with no covers.)

Unfortunately, I'm sure I will have more evidence to share tomorrow. Sweet dreams!