So Sweet

Friday night, daughter kept telling me that I needed to sleep in on Saturday. She was adamant that I not get up early, or come downstairs, or leave my bed. Do you know why? Because she and Hubs made me breakfast in bed. It was just a plain old Saturday, not my birthday, not Mother's Day, not our anniversary, just plain old boring Saturday. They made me a card thanking me for all that I do. I had orange juice and coffee and pancakes and eggs and, well really, an entire breakfast spread with all the fixins. I know, right.

I am greatly appreciative of the sweetness and the love, I mean, really, really appreciative, but I also have to wonder, what is it exactly they want, those little consiprators?

Is this what happens to cynics? I can't even take a simple gift at face value? I need therapy.



Love you Family!

I Love Sleep More

My husband and I sleep in separate rooms. Except for the fact that it feels like we are more roommates with benefits than a married couple, it's not so bad. It hasn't always been this way, but he snored so badly that it was an inevitable progression to migrate to separate sleeping quarters lest I continue on in a zombie like status eventually craving brains and/or actually killing him while he slept. Later, we found out he had sleep apnea, he got one of those fancy breathing boxes which curbs the snoring but makes him sound like Darth Vader, I don't know which is worse really. By this time we were so used to sleeping apart we didn't really even think about moving back in together. Our daughter also has a habit of getting up in the middle of the night and migrating to one or the other's room and neither one of us have a bed big enough for three, so, we just kept the pre-box arrangement. Once in a while, we try to hang out together in bed, but it usually ends badly with one or the other kicking someone in their sleep, someone having to put the offspring back in her own bed, someone's too hot, someone's too cold, who stole the covers, stop suffocating me for cryin' out loud. If most normal people spend their nights like this it's no wonder we are a world constantly in a bad mood.

Last night, I decided to grace my husband with my presence because, a) offspring was spending the night somewhere else and b)it was really hot and husband has an in room a/c. I figured I could forgive random kicks, occasional snorts and odd husband sounds for a night between icy cold sheets mid-summer. I was ready and willing to go the long haul, actually sleeping in the same bed as my husband for an entire night. I was drifting to sleep, quite content when I heard a meek, "meow." I ignored it. A little more insistent "Meowwwww." Came from under the closed door I really tried to ignore it. That was when the cat yelled at full volume "MEEEOOWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!" I got up and let the needy monster in. She jumped on me. Purred in my ear, jumped on my husband's back, he threw her off, she jumped on me again, meowed some more, kneaded her little paws into my belly fat, walked up and laid on my chest, purred loudly, walked around my body some more, finally settled on my head. At last she was fulfilled and I could get some sleep. Three hours later, someone opened the door and the cat followed that someone to wherever they were going. The cat did not follow someone back into the bedroom. Someone fell asleep and did not hear the insistent meowing that continued on for about 15 minutes straight. I got up to let the dang cat in and she ran down the hallway toward my room, looking back as if to say, "You comin'?"

So apparently, I am not meant to share a bed with my husband. Even the cat thinks so. So we will continue our unusual married couple ritual of separate quarters as odd as it may seem to other people. Sometimes I wonder about the psyche of my poor daughter who has never known her parents to sleep with one another. Will she go on to marry and think her new husband is crazy for wanting to share a bed? For us though it works, especially those midnight rendezvous in a strange bedroom.

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I changed my comments section to reflect the number of blog stalkers I have because looking at "0 comments" was getting depressing.  "0 blog stalkers" makes me feel much less pathetic and more empowered that I have the ability to intimidate blog stalkers to the point that they don't dare visit my blog.  It's a triumph really.