My husband is hot. Like seriously hot. I’m talking * tsss *, sizzling hot. (tsss is the sound of sizzling, if you weren’t sure, go back and read it as a sizzle sound, it’ll make more sense). I’m not necessarily complaining, well, actually, I guess I am.
It isn’t easy having a hot husband, especially at night. He makes me hot and I can’t just fall asleep like that. Even when I do, it wakes me up in the middle of the night, sometimes several times and then I’m so, so tired the next day.
Some of you may not understand for the simple reason that your husband isn’t as hot as mine. Honestly, you should count your blessings. You’d know exactly what I’m talking about if you spent just one night in our bed. Those of you who do happen to have hot husbands are probably nodding your heads in agreement and fanning yourselves just thinking about it.
I suppose it wouldn’t bother me so much if we lived in a cooler climate, but when it’s already 20 degrees warmer at night than you’d like it to be, sleeping next to a living fricking furnace exuding what I am certain has to be higher than normal body heat, it kind of sucks. I don’t know if I’m having pre-menopausal night sweats or if he’s laying too close to me some nights.
What did you think I was talking about?