I’m pretty ordered when it comes to most things. I like the remote next to the television, I like the dishes put away after washing not left in the drainboard for days on end, and I like the lights to be out and the covers not look like two sumo wrestlers had at them when it comes to my bed. I will give into a little petting time but see no need to have it go on for hours.

But sometimes there comes that special one who can completely upset the natural order of things by sheer charm. That is Vance. With his twinkling blue eyes and mischievous smile I was putty from the start. Try as I might to break his bed-hopping habit I soon found myself giving in to his whim and these days am happy to not only allow it but join with him.

I will admit that at first I found it rather uncomfortable. I mean I can’t even get comfy in a five-star hotel bed so the whole idea of Vance’s bed-hopping was beyond disruptive to my middle age way of bedroom life. But he has just got the most engaging little smile…

And maybe Vance’s bed-hopping is just what I’ve needed. I know I’ve never slept better or felt more relaxed and I’ve certainly never had more fun in bed. It’s funny, I think, the things one is willing to do in the name of love.

And as much as my mother prays I settle down and share my bed with a husband I much prefer to continue my bedroom antics with my frisky bed-hopping cat Vance who just can’t seem to control his hopping back and forth over me to and fro one side of the bed to the other. I’ve even started leaving the dishes in the rack and the remote has been missing for days.