My last night with Austin/why my husband rocks

On the eve of Austin's much-anticipated MTC entry, we decided to have one more sleepover. You see, when Austin and I lived together (and sometimes when we didn't), we shared a bed. One of those tiny, twin-sized, dorm beds. I think it was a comfort thing. I have a weird thing where I can't sleep alone. I still have yet to figure it out... it only started in college. One night, Melissa wasn't home, and so I went to sleep with Austin and Heather in their room. I think that night I may have slept in a sleeping bag. A few nights later, I went to sleep in their room again (perhaps by accident, I'm known to fall asleep in every place but my bed). After that, Austin and I started our tradition of co-bedding. When we moved out of Liberty Square and into separate apartments, we still would have sleepovers and share a bed, often falling asleep to an episode of Gilmore Girls or Juno played on her little Apple laptop. On the eve of my wedding, I shared a bed yet again (though we thought then perhaps for the last time) with my dear friend Austin (and my dear friend Kaitlyn as well.... this was a king-sized bed). Sharing a bed with my husband is great, but it is different. I missed Austin.

She came to spend the night with me as a set-apart sister missionary (we still are not sure as to the appropriateness of this since Tim was also there and we live in a studio apartment, but oh well). We shared a bed yet again, and it's sad to think maybe it is for the last time (at least for 18 months, that is).




That's right. Austin read the entire Stuff White People Like to get in her fill before the 18 month drought of hilarious and satirical commentary on the urban, eco-aware life of the 20-something white people with liberal arts degrees.


The best part:



Tim not only allowed us to have a sleepover, he encouraged it. How many husbands would be kicked out of their beds by their wife's best friend and not show an ounce of bitterness?