No Rest for the Wicked

Let start off by saying I love my wife very much; we've been together over 17 years.
So here's the deal. It's time for bed. I get into the bed, pull the covers up and go to sleep. Well, that's the plan anyways. My wife on the other hand has a different plan.
Once I am in bed she snuggles up to me, slipping her arm around mine squeezing ever so tightly. Then she begins to adjust for comfort. A little shift here a little shift there. Okay, she's good. Nope, a little more shifting, throw in some huffing. This goes on for 5 to 10 minutes and the whole time I'm still laying there on my back as I was when I first got into the bed.
And just when you thought it was time to drift off into nothingness she mumbles, "Someone's screwed up my shirt."
See there's another little player in the act we have going on and it is "the shirt". The shirt is some ratty old t-shirt from when I was in the academy 15 years ago. Said article of clothing is to be draped across my wife's head, strategically covering her eyes and more importantly her ear. She cannot stand the wind from the fan blowing on the ear.
So she snatches the shirt off her head and starts whipping it around to get it in the right configuration as to best protect her from the elements. Now we've got to go back to shifting and huffing until we somewhat resemble the form we were in prior to the shirt not complying.
Finally, we (being me, because she's out within seconds of being comfortable) start to drift off. But of course that's not the end. Time for anatomy class!
The human forearm is made of two bones, the radius and the ulna. The radius is the larger of the two and runs along the top of the arm. Traveling down the arm from the shoulder socket is the brachial artery, the major blood vessel for the arm.
All right, my wife, all sweet and snugly, has her forearm wedged between my arm and my chest. Now I don't think my wife has taken jujitsu, but I'm pretty sure she's got me in some kind of lock or something because she's managed to twist her arm ever so slightly causing the radius to cut into the my brachial. End result, my arm starts to go numb, so I start tapping out.
"Babe."
"What?" muffled behind the shirt.
"Babe."
"What?!"
"Babe, my arm, I need my arm."
"Why?"
"I can't feel it."
"Fine!" in a big, over exaggerated toss and she rolls over the other way.
After I get the feeling back into my arm I actually fall asleep. But not for long.
My wife has perfected the "ratchet blanket removal system" or RBRS. And goes a little something like this...
She rolls over to face me, grabs two handfuls of covers and then rolls away from me, releases the covers and rolls back, grabs covers, rolls away, release, back, grab, away. You get the idea. This is done until all the covers have been removed from my side of the bed. And let's not even get started on what "side" of the bed is mine, more like "smaller than her's" portion.
Anyways, she has all the covers, that is until she gets hot. Then she proceeds to push them all on top of me so that I might self-combust in the middle of the night. So I push them aside and finally, FINALLY, start to drift asleep and the alarm goes off.
And she wonders why I always look tired.