Sweet Gummi Mary! Who
do you have to…um…drug with NyQuil to get a decent night’s sleep around here?
I thought I had felt
it all. The raptor claw toenail. The New York Harbor holiday boat spray of
breather mist. The punch to the head. The elbow between the shoulder blades.
But Saturday I was in for a new Farmer H wake-up call.
I was snoozing
soundly. Dreaming. Sawing logs. Counting sheep. Had taken up residence in the
Land of Nod. But something startled me from my slumber. I had a pain in the
back of my head. I reached my hand around there, and felt it. The proboscis of
Farmer H’s breather mask, poking into my noggin.
Countless times I have
cautioned him to stay off my side. Seriously. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is not a
toucher-feeler. Sleep time is sleep time. I don’t want to be snuggled. I don’t
want to be spooned. I don’t want your raptor claw toenail imbedded in my shin.
I don’t want to be your punching bag. I don’t need to be misted like the
vegetables in the grocery bins, with or without fake thunder. I don’t want your
50-pound bowling ball head laid upon my chest. I don’t want your hammy leg
draped over my hip. I don’t want your snaky arm burrowing under my tower of
pillows. And I especially don’t want your breather muzzle jammed up against the
posterior of my skull.
Enough is enough.
The first image that
popped into my mind upon regaining consciousness was that of a storm trooper’s
gas mask. Which, perhaps, speaks of my penchant for spending too much time
researching conspiracy theories.
I just want a restful sleep, five hours or so, unencumbered, unmolested, un-breathered.
Is that too much to ask?
3 comments:
Well, have you asked? Have you taken the time to simply ask him? You don't have a chance if you don't at least ask.
Say this: I'm just a girl, asking a boy...for five hours of sleep.
He Who does stay on his side, the dogs take up the middle space, all of them pushing as close to me as possible. When we were looking at RV's I was totally okay with twin beds. Thinking how great it would be to have my very own space until I remembered that I would end up with all 4 dogs in my bed.
Sioux,
Wait! That's not rhetorical? When someone asks, "Is that too much to ask?" it really refers to ASKING? Dang! This might just change the world!
Technically, that would be, "I'm just a girl, laying beside a boy, asking him for five hours of sleep." I don't think that would work, even for whiny Julia Roberts.
*****
Kathy,
I daresay the toenails of your dogs are better-maintained and less painful upon insertion into a shin at 2:30 in the morning than the raptor claw toenail of Farmer H.
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