She loves to sleep. She should go pro. She can sleep the whole night away, and sometimes part of the day.
But only if I’m here. She’ll wrap around me and be out in an instant.
I sneak out some nights. I have to. I have to eat. But I don’t keep it a secret. The mornings, when she wakes up to a full breakfast waiting for her on the table, she knows I’ve been gone, but she never asks me where.