My husband has a joke about how many bicycles he needs: n+1. If it’s been a while since you took algebra, “n” is a stand in for “number.” It’s the geeky math way of saying “one more than I have right now.”
Silas’s N+1 equation is blankets.
When Silas wants to snuggle, he brings a blanket with him. He doesn’t care if you already have one. I’m sitting in my chair right now with two fleece throws and a dog bed. In five minutes, when he decides to get off the couch and come sit with me, chances are that he will bring the fleece throw off the sofa.
You can really watch his little head spin when he realizes that the snuggle place is already full. One day, he tried to bring his crate mat up in my lap. Except he’d already brought three blankets and two fleece dog beds, and he just couldn’t figure out how to get in the chair with one more. He finally sat down and cried until I rearranged all the blankets.
I’ve finally gotten smart and started sneaking the extras back off the chair whenever he gets up.
The thing I can’t figure out is how to cut down on the number of blankets in the house. The house just seems to absorb however many things I bring in, and Silas has a place in his heart for all of them.