As a wee kiddle I dreamed, schemed and begged to stay up so I could watch The Dick Van Dyke Show. I was absolutely wild about Rob Petrie and he had THE best job EVAH! Laura? I liked her fine but I recall being way more keen on Sally Rogers (Rose Marie), one of Rob's writing partners. She had a cool gig, fun coworkers and a great view from the office window. Laura was a housewife in suburbia zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
In any case, I always thought it odd that Rob and Laura had separate beds. My parents shared a bed. Isn't that what all happy, married people did?
And then I read books about British royalty, landed gentry and other über wealthy types. Not only were their beds detached, they had different bedrooms entirely!
'the hell is this all about?! How cold! They must not really love each other! This must be a business arrangement sort of a marriage! The rich really are different from us poors?
And then I got older. Older and in a happy, ecstatic even, love match with The Amazing Bob for nearly 30 years, I get it now. Rather, I get why having your own bed or even a separate bedroom, doesn't automatically mean you're in a loveless, cold, uptight, biz arrangement.
I snore on occasion and TAB's a light sleeper. TAB can be an energetic slumberer — arms fly with glorious abandon, legs jerk and sometimes, while in the depths of Doze Land, he'll begin patting me. Yes, like I'm a cat. It's sweet but, ya know, uninterrupted siesta time is sweet too.
From The Daily Mail:
Lady Pam explains to Ms Smith, a well-bred American: ‘In England, the upper class always have had separate bedrooms. You don’t want to be bothered with snoring or someone flinging a leg around. Then when you are feeling cozy you share your room sometimes. It is lovely to be able to choose.’ If a monarch can’t avoid flying leg syndrome, who can?The Daily Mail has an interesting piece, Separate beds at 28: Why would a loving couple want to sleep apart?
Married couple Helena Bonham Carter and Tim Burton live in separate homes in London, linked by a single corridorOK. OK, I get it. Truly I do. Still, the Petries struck me as formal. Surely not as ironed, buttoned up and poopless as Ward and June BUT I can't quite imagine Rob or Laura cutting loose with a wall shaking butt yodel and then laughing about it.