"Uh, Princess, there's another bed right next to this one."
"I'm stayin. Get over it."
Mind games. She doesn't even like the beds. She prefers hardwood floors. The only thing she likes better than a hardwood floor is screwing with Loki's head.
He's a creature of habit. He doesn't like change. Once he chooses a bed, it's his spot, his refuge, his zen.
Some nights, she races him to the bedroom to steal that bed. Even though there's another exactly the same right next to it. If he's already in it, she will squeeze in next to him and he doesn't much mind. If not, she sprawls across it making it impossible for him.
Instead of choosing the other bed, he comes to me to fix the problem. He paces the floor and looks at me as if his whole world has been turned upside down. Then I get out of bed and make her move.
A dog's bed is his castle.
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