I am 29 years old and no longer sleep with a blanket.

Yes, you read that right. I have had a blanket since I was born called "duck blankie". I slept with duck blankie every night and it traveled with me on vacations growing up. Duck blankie went with me to college, where it did not travel with me to regattas or co-op assignments. After college duck blankie moved with me to my first apartment and on to Connecticut. Duck blankie made it up here to Vermont with me as well.

Of course there were times in my adult life when I wouldn't sleep with duck blankie, like when a gentleman would stay over. I've thought about why on earth I slept with a blanket for so long and I think I've figured it out: I have to have something to hug at night. When I stay in hotels, I surround myself with the 50 pillows they provide on the bed because I like the snuggly feeling you get from a ton of pillows.

The other week I looked at duck blankie, all sad and falling apart and still sort of having the duck on it, and decided it was time to fold it and put it in my trunk. Now that I have nothing to hug at night, my bed is a wreck in the morning - the duvet is all twisted up around me in the morning along with my flannel sheets.

Do I miss duck blankie? No, not really. I miss hugging something at night.