I awoke around 3 a.m. when I felt hot, 1st-grader breath on my face. When I opened my eyes, Margaret is standing there. She earnestly cries, "There's something on my pillow and I'm not going back in there."
Because I'm the generous sort, I shook the arm of my dearest Uber-husband and implored him to do a pillow inspection.
I could have done it myself, but if there had been something unsightly on the pillow, I would have gotten him up to remove it anyway, so why not just skip a step.
Of course, there wasn't anything on the aforementioned pillow and Margaret was able to go back to sleep in her own bed. Bill wasn't so lucky.
He was up a couple more times with heartburn and her general insomnia which always affects me. It's as if I take roll call in my sleep and if all two of us aren't present, I must investigate.
I can't remember all the times I've stomped out of the bedroom and yelled at Bill to get his sorry sack of bones back to bed so I could get some sleep.
I guess sleep is just one of those luxuries that I'll enjoy later in life.
2 comments:
They say sleep is overrated, but I don't buy it. I'm the same way, stay in the damn bed is the sentence I say to my husband the most often ...
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