Every night, I walk on The Agent's prone form, in bed, as she patiently (and sometimes NOT-so-patiently) waits for me to settle down. Most of the time, I'll stand there and stare at her. Occasionally, I'll turn around and around, in circles. Still other times, I'll stand, lie down, stand again, invite Brach over to stand with me, and lie down again.
What is actually happening:
What The Agent claims it feels like:
What a whiny baby!
While she perceives it to be about her lack of comfort, I think she's missing reality completely. Clearly, this is a twisted and horrific take on Hans Christian Andersen's The Princess and The Pea! How am I supposed to be expected to sleep on such an uncomfortable lump?!
(On a side note, I think we can all agree our resident artist must be legally blind. There is no way The Agent is that flat-chested or I'm that not-super-sexy! Although, The Agent's bed-head is dead-on!)