I’m a big fan of equal but separate arrangements in
marriage. Bathrooms come to mind. And if your domicile is not equipped to
accommodate completely separate bathrooms, then certainly two sinks is a must…not
to mention a water closet with a closing door. I do not recall any part of a
marriage ceremony promising to endure exposure to each others most intimate
bodily functions and maintenance routines. Having separate bathrooms provides an
appreciative veil for ‘tmi’ in a marriage. As a real estate professional I observe
the need for separateness all the time so I know I’m not alone in this.
Let’s face it. What we do in the bathroom is simply gross at
times, even in the best of health. Personally my overly sensitive gag reflex
kicks in at the site of my husband’s whisker shavings trapped between the
faucets, developing into hairy scum when mixed with toothpaste spit and hair
styling over spray. This is the specific use for, and the reason why we save,
our old toothbrushes. Pee stained toilet rims and the underside of the seat is reason
alone to keep separate bathrooms. After years of placing canisters of bleach
wipes on the tank top…”they’re right
there, why don’t you use them?”…I am now thankful his mess is his mess.
After 30 years of marriage, and the luxury of double-decades of separate
bathrooms, we have now succumb to the necessity for separate beds too. My husband,
16 years and almost a generation ahead of me, is still old fashioned about
sleeping in the same room with his wife. Me, I could totally be fine with
kissing him goodnight and retiring to separate, personalized quarters where we
could each snore with abandon without suffering through the morning’s ‘who
snored the loudest’ stories.
We settled on separate but equal beds to accommodate our
differences. Two adjustable twins share one over sized comforter for appearances
sake. Underneath you’ll find two entirely different linen arrangements that
suit our preferences. His is fluffy warm fleece sheets and an extra blanket (to
accommodate the ever-cooling body temperature of a nearly 70-year-old man)
accompanied by a high thread count pillow case to give him an edge in his
battle of keeping his precious remaining hair follicles on his head and not on
the pillow case (he’s one step shy of wearing a secret satin hair net).
On my side you’ll find the highest thread count cotton top
and bottom sheet and matching ever-cool pillowcase. That’s it, and even that is
too much on some nights when menopausal night sweats get the best of me. Typically
I throw my side of the comforter onto him, which he is happy to absorb, jet my
legs out from the top sheet, and soak in the cool night air like salve on a
rash. Another secret on my side is a cooling mat I found at the drug store for
$29. It generates coolness when it comes in contact with body heat. I would
have paid hundreds of dollars for the 36”X 50” answer to my prayers. I just slip
it under the bottom sheet and presto change-air conditioned bed. My husband
calls it my frozen pop sickle. I call it heaven on earth.
On the rare occasion we have new visitors to our home and a
tour of the house is appropriate, one only sees what appears to be a very large
king size bed adorned with a lovely comforter and matching pillows. What lies
beneath is an ingenious compromise to the realities of our age appropriate
challenges. Did I mention the dual vibration option? I use mine nightly to lull
me to sleep. His remote has cobwebs. This is how we like it.
