Heated

There comes a point in every person’s life where they grow tired of their girlfriend making exaggerated shivering noises throughout the whole of winter.

Even while seemingly fast asleep.

Or sighing if you move in bed and create a  gap between body and duvet which cold air may penetrate.

Even while seemingly fast asleep.

Followed by a violent and frightening hammering down of the duvet to seal the gap you have allegedly left.

Even while seemingly fast asleep.

We had an electric blanket once. I don’t know what happened to it that meant we no longer had an electric blanket. Maybe we wore through to the wires or some other fate befell it. I know not.

All I know is that we have, for the past year or so, been bringing back the magic of the old days with a hot water bottle.

A hot water bottle is great. It provides heat which can permeate even the coldest of beds. We never, ever put in the bed beforehand. Carole always takes it to bed with her. Thus bringing on more of the cartoonish “brrr” noises.

A hot water bottle isn’t great, however, when it goes cold. Or when you need it the next day and it’s still tucked somewhere at the bottom of the bed, kicked out of the way for having no residual heat.

There also comes a point in everyone’s life where they get fed up of their mother coming to visit and saying she’ll be okay once she gets in bed, and gets the blanket on top of the duvet and puts her dressing gown on really tight.

I’ve bought electric blankets to keep the ladies in my life happy. Or at least to make the Christmas holidays a little more bearable and less complainy. I have, of course, underestimated the bulk of the items and look like I’m going on a long camping trip.

But it’s a small price to pay for peace this Christmas.

Not to mention January afternoon naps are going to be toasty!