tavie.com

Last night as we were sitting around the table in our new apartment, I was telling the goils about how I was trying to convince Kirsten to come over and stay the night in my new place, "as much as she wanted".

And they started laughing at me. Of course. Because, as they said, I moved out to get away from sharing a room with her, and here I am, not even fully moved in yet, trying to get her to come sleep in my new room.

But, you know, there is historical precedent for this. When we were mere slip o' a lassies, barely more than babbies, I never slept in my own bed - every night I climbed up into her bunk and slept with her. Every single night. When we were 7, our Grandma moved into a nursing home and I got her room. Not even one night went by before Kirsten was in my bed with me, and her room became mere storage-- she slept there every night with me for three years, until we moved to Roosevelt Island and were once more officially sharing a room. On the coldest nights up to this past winter we shared a bed.

And now here I am, trying to get her to come sleep in my new room. I'll probably hitchhike and stowaway my way around the world to sleep in her new digs in Japan...

It's a twin thing.

Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:05 AM | shower me with attention