The Bunny is a superwoman. She's obviously much stronger than she looks. And she looks pretty strong, for a wee girl anyway. Bunny works nights, right? I sleep at night and she sleeps during the day, so only on weekends do we share the bed. And in at least one respect, that's a good thing.

See, we have very different ideas about blankets. I like a few blankets. She likes having every blanket in the entire fucking world. If there's a blanket out there somewhere, she wants it hunted down and brought home. So I have something like four blankets, she has something like ten. And some of those fuckers are heavy. I feel smothered if I don't peel off a few layers when I get into bed. Bunny's preferred pile of blankets is so heavy, I have difficulty moving my feet under them. They're downright oppressive. Children and old people would probably die under the weight of Bunny's endless pile of covers.

I'm convinced Bunny possesses hidden reserves of strength. She might be a superhero.