During the night, I woke for a moment, and patted Bob, who was laying close to me, on the head. I was going to touch his head to feel his warmth. I reached for his head and did not find the right spot, so I reached again. Failing a second time, I reached with both hands. Not succeeding in finding his head three times, I thought, "Oh no where is Bob's head? I really liked his head. This is horrific, what good is a husband without a head? Oh no, will I be blamed for my headless husband?" I almost had a heart attack. I leaped backward from the bed and flipped the light switch on.
There was the evidence: I didn't realize Bob had cleaned out his side of the closest and everything he owned was in piles on his side of the bed packed so close together it resembled a man's body. I had mistaken it for Bob when I went to sleep, not turning the light on.
Later explanation from Bob, when I found him on his computer writing in the gazebo outside: He had read an article by Jerry Jenkins and had started a new writing schedule without telling me using some late night hours so he could spend more time with the kids after dinner before they went to sleep.
Read Jerry Jenkins article about his writing schedule to allow time with his children