I sleep with Suzy. More precisely, I can’t finish going to sleep until Suzy comes to bed. She likes a bedtime snack first. Then, finished in the kitchen, she has a habit of taking a short run and leaping into bed. I think she likes to see me bounce and hear me snort. And then, she expects our routine affections. She kisses me on the neck until I roll over and hug her for a while. Satisfied, she lets me roll away, and fits herself neatly into the curve of my back. Tucked away securely, we can both finally get some rest. I think I’m the only one who knows that Suzy is pregnant. I’m pretty sure I’m the father, of course. Still, I worry… Will I ever get any rest trying to sleep with Suzy and our litter of St. Bernards?