Pillow & Blanket Maid

I've worked alone since 1987, first as a paleontologist, just me and the dead things, and now running an internet company from home. It affords me plenty of time to think. Perhaps too much time. So recently I've been thinking about what could make my life easier and more productive. The first thing that comes to mind is sleep. I'm an insomniac and suffer many a useless days for lack of sleep. I've done nearly everything possible, new pillows and warmer blankets to start with - really helped. And there's the drone sound from an iPhone app that both Daya and I think is the bomb. But I really think there's one item that needs addressing. Daya disagrees.

You know plenty of people have maids to clean their houses, gardeners for their yards. They save time and allow for more work and family time. I work at home. I keep up with the house and refuse to have a gardener, Use it or lose I say - Need the exercise.

My needs are simpler. You know how, when turning over at night, how a little space is formed behind your neck and upper back, how cold it feels and how you have to roll back and forth to get the blanket tucked back in there and how you're mostly awake by that time and can't get back to sleep and your wife sits up and scowls or makes rude remarks about, oh I dunno, whatever. Well what I, we, need is a blanket and pillow maid, someone who tucks the blanket behind your neck and back when you roll over. I honestly think that this is the last item required for a full nights sleep. She would sit there with a little book light reading or whatever while we slept and spring to action only when needed. Easy job. Of course, as Daya inquired, she would have to be young and pretty and female, 'cause otherwise it would be creepy and have the opposite effect of a good nights sleep. And she'd have to work exclusively for me so that there'd be no conflict when deciding what to do when Daya rolled, pulling covers off me nearly completely and tucking them in under her on both sides so deep that a John Deere product couldn't free them. She would quietly sneak off to the bathroom where she'd wet a waiting hand towel and just as quietly sneal back into the bedroom raise the dripping towel well over her head and slap it down hard on Daya's head, preferably face. She'd also be instructed to calm a shocked Daya with, "Oh Mam (with a British accent, I forgot, a British accented, attractive young woman desired) you seem to have had a rather awful night mare mam. Yes you do. Look you're all wet and sweaty,(long pause) .... mam", as she tucked the covers around me and fluffed my pillow. She wouldn't cost anymore than a hose cleaner or gardener.