Thursday, 7 April 2011
Why I Don't Sleep at Night...
Disclaimer: I swear on the life of my dead Aunt Mable, who I'm not sure ever really existed, that all artwork was done by a three year old.
(I'm sure that had I ever had an Aunt Mable she would buy me a new camera to prevent atrocities such as you are about to view here.)
I need a king sized bed. My husband’s life may depend on it.
I’m a curvy gal. My butt is too big.
My husband is 6’2”. He is all arms and legs.
I don’t like to be touched when I’m sleeping; especially when my husband’s skin temperature seems to elevate to nearly 200 degrees immediately upon contact with the bed.
He lays on his stomach, bending the knee of the leg on the outer edge of the bed in a way that makes his butt stick out into my side of the bed.
The inner arm is bent in a way that manages to place his elbow right in the small of my back.
Notice he’s sleeping and I’m not? That’s because I’m thinking about dousing him with ice water…
Or putting my ice cold toes in the small of his back and pushing him off the bed….
And then I’ll have a hot flash. I’m sweating like a whore in church and he’s touching me. I want to tear off my t-shirt and lie naked on the cold kitchen floor. But, what if one of the children wakes up and sees the crazy naked mom on the kitchen floor? How do I explain that?
Instead, I get out of bed, go to the bathroom, and run cold water on a washcloth. Then, I wipe myself down until I cool off.
I look at him from my post at the bathroom door. The jerk is still sleeping. This is the only time I ever think he’s a jerk; when he’s sleeping and I’m not.
I grab a clean t-shirt, change and decide to try again. As I climb into bed he changes position. Hallelujah! He’s now curled on his side of the bed and will not be touching me!
I’m happy! See?
I get comfy. I close my eyes. Alas, sweet slumber is near!
He starts snoring.
Now I need a king sized bed and ear plugs.
Posted by Erica Tomlin