The other night I was in a nice sleep, when my husband JUMPED out of bed, GRABBED the covers and YANKED them off of me.
What the heck?
So I looked up at him standing there holding all the covers and said, “Excuse me?!”
He looked back at me, mumbled something like, “Sorry,” and got back in bed, pulling the now seriously askew covers back over him.
I pulled up some covers and went back to sleep.
The next morning, when I remembered what had happened in the middle of the night, I said, “Hey, what’s the deal with ripping the covers off of me?”
“Oh,” he said, “sorry. In my dream, it made sense.”