There are days when I don’t feel particularly girly or feminine…and then there are days when I succumb to all the feminine weaknesses. But whether I’m having a testosterone or estrogen day, there’s always one girly quality that never goes away: I like to snuggle.
It’s true. I’m that girl. And if you don’t know of which girl I speak, allow YouTube to paint you a picture:
I’m Rachel, when Ross does the hug-and-roll (ignore the horribleness of the clip, it’s ghetto, I know).
I’m the girl John Stamos can totally seduce with his Snugglefest.
And you know what? That’s a real problem for me. Not just because I’m a woman – because I’m a straight woman, and the news media hasn’t had anything good to tell me lately about my preference. According to a story from Northwestern’s grad school, there are actually men in this world who lack the snuggling gene, if we are to believe the study performed by the National Institute of Mental Health.
I’ve found my own solution, though, even if it makes me crazy – my dogs.
My adorable little fluff balls love to snuggle. When I first got Dorrie, I could NOT handle it. I mean, yeah, I wanted to snuggle – but when I wanted to. She wanted to be in my lap ALL THE TIME, and I was so not used to that amount of attention. It made me feel like someone’s non-committed boyfriend. But over time, I grew to love it.
Which is good, because when I decided to get another dog, I couldn’t believe that I found one who was actually snugglier than Dorrie. And he’s larger. Two times the snuggling, two times the fluff. That’s like snuggling squared.
But I love Skeeter. He’s so, so cute. And when he holds on to me with his not-so-little feet when we’re napping, it’s like a have a small child snuggling with me. But better because he’s furry and doesn’t complain about us not having cable.
Skeeter’s clearly superior snuggling skills have led to me to believe that I should have named him Snuggleufagus instead. Big Bird would LOVE him.