Although its been nine glorious years since we were first married, I have to admit that my husband and I still make very strange bed fellows. Like most husbands and wives, we are opposite in every way. He's hot at night, I'm freezing. I'm sweltering in the morning, he's an iceburg. Many a night has commenced with Chuck strategically posing the question, "Should we sleep with the fan on or off tonight?" No one ever really knows the answer to that question until the moment is upon us. And surprisingly, I alone, hold the key to that mystery. Because it's all about me, right? :)
Another matter is the whole alarm clock issue. For some reason, my husband continuously buys the same faulty alarm clock year after year. Every morning he swears he set it the previous night, yet surprisingly, no noise or music escapes from it at the pre-determined time each morning. I should have told him to save his money. My body clock is as reliable as Walmart being open 24 hours a day. I ALWAYS wake up before my alarm and turn it off so as not to wake my sleeping husband. And then I remember - "wait, he's supposed to be at work right now". So, I ever so gently give him that little nudge, with my knee, then my foot, then harder, then the nudge becomes a shove. I can't stand to be late. I can't stand if I know other's are going to be late. Poor guy is hardly ever late to work - thanks to me.
And finally, the story behind this entry. My husband has serious sleeping issues. If at any point in the night I happen to wake him and ask him for something or tell him I think I heard a noise...he never really leaves the zen state of sleep he was in. Now, he still communicates (if that's what you want to call it) - he can talk and walk, but his actions and/or answers to my questions or comments don't always make sense. Between my talking in my sleep and his doing whatever anybody says to do while in his partly awake state, we are a sitcom waiting to happen.
Take last night for example...Chuck has been plagued by a tickle cough and your basic cold for about a week now. Conveniently, the little fake cough is more severe at night. So, after both of us laying there for 45 minutes last night trying to sleep and pretending to not be at all annoyed by the fake cough every 3.5 seconds, I just can't take any more. I blurt out, "Why don't you go take a teaspoon full of honey. That should help coat your throat." Where I got that one from, I'll never know. It must have been either Mary Poppins or my Grandfather, I don't know which. Evidently, I'm still handing out advice in my sleep - poor Chuck. But being that he is Chuck, he feels the need to respond to every and anything I say or do at night. I could tell him to go make a sandwich in the middle of the night and he would do it - no questions asked. He's so sweet, he feels that he's being rude if he turns his back to me at night. Anyways, back to the story at hand.
So, I'm assuming after he got out of bed he went and ate some honey. I fell to sleep the instant he got out of bed and we never really talked about the incident all day until tonight. When he was like, "What was that whole honey thing about last night?". And I was like, "Did you actually go do that?". To which he responds, "You could have told me to go drain the oil out of the car and drink it and I probably would have because I just don't think at night." Then I'm like, "why are we so crazy at night?". And it just now dawned on me that I'm writing this like I'm some kind of teenager - or do teenagers even talk that way anymore? Okay, maybe I'm reverting back to my 80's teenager days. :)
Just so posterity gets this story straight, this is a nightly occurrence. There are just too many stories to tell, that I could not possibly relate them all. If any of our off-spring find themselves in this same predicament -you know who to thank. It's in the genes.
