Tuesday, May 10, 2011

The Cuddle

I am not at all a cuddler. Ask my husband. He is very much a cuddler, so I have tried squeezing out every ounce of cuddling my 34-year old body is capable of. (I'm sure glad I can still round down to 30, but that will all change this year. Eeek.)

Here's my deal with cudding. I like to recycle things like plastic and newspapers, but not other people's air. When you lay next to someone, you have no choice but to breathe their air. It's warm and moist (moist is on the banned word list in our house, but it seemed appropriate here). These are the same reasons I hate public toilets. Warm, moist, warm, moist.

I just shivered.


Reason number two that I don't like to cuddle is that within 3 minutes, the back of your knees get sweaty. The body heat generated when two grown adults cuddle is off the charts. To sweat because you are just laying there is gratuitous sweating in my book. If I'm going to sweat it's going to be because I'm playing beach volleyball in Bali, not because I'm laying too close to someone.

But, one of my husband's love languages is physical affection. So, I've tried to get better at the cuddle. I just aim my head up so that I'm not breathing recycled air and take off the blanket so that my knees don't sweat. I haven't overcome all my issues, but I'm hoping these small attempts communicate to him that I'm trying. It's at least communicating to him that he indeed married a curiously quirky woman.
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