A faint scream comes out of my husbands lips followed by a glaring look back at me. I bat my eyes and give a sheepish "who me" expression as I burrow my freezing feet a little further under his leg.
Sadly for Chris this is the start of pretty much every night. I'm pretty sure I have the worlds worst circulation, like if someone tighten my hands above my head they'd have to amputate my arms a few hours later bad and I got Restless Leg Syndrome to prove it.
It took Chris nearly a year of marriage to realize that no matter how many socks I put on or blankets I wrapped I can't get my feet warm.
Now up to hear it isn't that random, more torturous (for Chris, wonderfully warm for me) then anything else up to this point. The weird comes in play when I fall asleep. I go from a decently average warmth excluding hands and feet (of which they are pretty much numb all the time) to what I'm pretty sure they could use to heat Mars (yes, the full planet could be warmed by my body heat while sleeping). We figured out quickly that "snuggling" wasn't an option for us unless we are living in the arctic with no heat.
Ladies and gents for this information I about to share I am sorry but legit: I have awoken in a pool of my own sweat before in the dead of winter only covered in a sheet...
I admit it: I'm a freak, but hey if we were trapped in a cave freezing to death I could save everyone if you just knock me unconscious . . . pretty sure that's close to a super power.