“I sometimes get so excited about getting into bed with him that I literally bounce on the bed and kind of squeal. (As I have gotten older, this becomes less endearing and more bizarre. It’s one thing when a 22 year old does it, but when a woman in her late 40s indulges in that behavior, it’s a little Grey Gardens. But I can’t help it.) I get to climb into bed, sleep beside him all night and, here’s the kicker…I GET TO WAKE UP BESIDE HIM.
I love the way he smells, his big, masculine presence, how he can sleep through anything. I love that it is hours and hours together. The house is quiet; our sweet children are safe and asleep. We are together, so close and yet separate. Sometimes we talk. Sometimes he just rolls close to me and I rub his head while I read my own book. Sometimes if the world has been particularly chaotic, or if we have a wonderful book, we’ll read to each other…my husband has a beautiful voice and it’s so comforting to listen as I snuggle under the covers. Going to sleep together is a hidden surprise in the box of marriage that wasn’t announced in the advertising. It’s like eating cake after eating cake. It’s all good and it’s not even fattening.” (x) – Felicity Huffman, on her marriage to William H. Macy