After reading in bed for a while, I adjust my pillow and get ready to turn out the light, but first I slide the book I was reading under my pillow.
Curled up on the bed next to me, Fleegle asks, “Why are you putting that book under your pillow and not on top of the stack on the nightstand?”
Slightly embarrassed, I dodge answering. “You don’t miss a thing, do you?”
“You’re so observant.”
“You’re welcome,” I say and reach to turn out the light.
“I used to chew on books when I was a puppy.”
“You specialized in removing the covers.”
“And if you want me to sleep next to one, I want an answer, please.”
“Oh, alright. I don’t want to read the book because it’s so wordy. The author uses a paragraph where a sentence would do, but it has a few gems of wisdom I don’t want to miss, so I thought I’d try osmosis.”
“Well, the theory is that if you sleep on something then whatever knowledge it has magically transfers to your head while you sleep.”
“So from sleeping on the feathers in this comforter is why I know so much about birds?”
“Um, yes, that’s right.” I turn off the light. “Goodnight, Fleegle.”
“Goodnight, Raud, don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
“That’s not very comforting coming from you.”
He answers by scratching himself and shaking the bed, but then settles down. Moments later he gets up and repositions himself with his head resting on my forehead.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Well, I don’t want to listen to you all the time, but you do say the occasional gem.”