Thursday, November 02, 2006

Pillow Talk

"Please be careful with the paint bombs, you don't want to drop them."

"Huh?!?" I'm just waking up and rolling out of bed. Why is my husband talking about paint? Bombs? Dropping?

"If you drop them they will explode." he implores. "Watch it!"

"Go back to sleep" I pat his shoulder and he rolls over.

"Okay." Snoring sounds are coming from his side of the bed once more, however, now I'm wide awake.

I find that I have the most interesting conversations with my husband when he is asleep. He sits up in bed and exclaims "Hallelujah!" or utters long monologues in a foreign language (foreign because it's not only not English, but as far as we know, nothing else either). Usually all it takes is me patting his shoulder and telling him to go back to sleep to calm him. Sometimes when he's particularly vocal and I'm desperate for sleep, I actually give him a smack and tell him to shut up. Bad wife, I know.

On the other hand, I am much different when I'm not quite awake. Back when I was a child, my Dad used to like to wake me up by pinning me down in bed so that I couldn't move. He thought it was funny. Me, not so much so. I would get angry, yell, and sometimes be near tears before he'd release me, laughing and telling me to "roll with the punches."

Well I roll with the punches now, only if someone comes to close when I'm half asleep, they get a right hook. Kevin and John have both learned that the hard way and now only will wake me up by either yelling things at me from the bedroom door , throwing stuff at me, or grabbing a foot to shake. The don't dare get too close.

Be afraid. Be very, very afraid. When I'm angry at John, the smackdown isn't just when he tries to wake me up, but apparently I get a little physical when he's just minding his own business on the other side of the bed. He says that it's not long before he feels knees in his back literally pushing him over the edge. Stop laughing, I know what you're thinking. No, I don't smack him and blame it on me being asleep. I'm really, truly, sound asleep. It's my subconcious smacking him upside the head. Good thing we rarely argue.

"I didn't even know you could hit that hard. Look, you gave me a bruise!" Oops. Sorry honey.

The funny thing about John talking in his sleep is that we can have whole conversations that he won't remember.
Maybe I need to start whispering that he has a sudden, irrepressible urge to vacuum. Or empty the dishwasher. Better yet, take me out for dinner? How about a nice vacation?

Hmm. I'll have to try that.

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