6 inches to sleep on...

“Do you have that little carpenter’s level handy?” I ask.

David looks over at me from his side of the bed.

“Because why?”

“Because I’m feeling pretty askew here,”  I say looking down at my torso.  My boobs are doing a great impersonation of a ship in distress – listing to the west.  “We have a divot in the bed.”

“I think you mean valley.  I don’t think there’s any sod that needs to be replaced from a bad golf swing.”

“Valley then.  Our bed has a valley.  See?”  I prop myself up on my side and immediately roll to the middle of the bed.  “It’s fine when I’m flat on my back, my tatas are equalized, but if I try to go on my side…”  I demonstrate a second time, rolling into David.

“That’s why,” he says - a light dawning.  “That is why, by the end of the night, I wind up with 6 inches to sleep on.”

"That's what she said."

"BAH!"

“I’m  not doing it on purpose,” I say.  “Divot.”

“Valley.”

“Whatever.”