Oh the fun of yesterday! There was cake! There were presents! There was joy!
And for about ten minutes my house was clean.
And then it wasn't.
I know. This is truly the hallmark of being a completely boring middle-aged woman. I obsess over the state of my kitchen floor. I wash it and for a few brief moments I am happy.
And then the people and animals who live here track the planet in with them and I am back in squalor.
I'm also a bit cranky because sleeping with my husband has become like sharing a bed with a restless toddler. The past week he's been coming into bed late. First he stomps up the stairs. He swears he's trying to be quiet, but really, it's like a heard of pugs who just heard a dog treat hit the floor.
Then he comes over to my side of the bed while using his iphone as a flashlight. Sometimes he rummages around my nightstand drawer for motrin. Other times it's some mystery item that only he knows about.
After he has flung his clothes on the floor and gotten into bed he begins to adjust his CPAP mask. He puts it on. He takes it off. He fiddles with the clasps. On. Off. On. Off.
Then he goes to sleep and for a little while all is quiet. I drift back to sleep.
Then it begins. A sound that can be best described as Darth Vader in a wind tunnel. In his sleep he has unclasped one side of his mask. This creates a sound which I am incapable of sleeping through.
By now Lily has made her way into bed between us. I do not mind this. Truth be told I like it. She's small. She's snuggly. She usually smells good. The only problem is that I can't just reach over and nudge David without waking Lily up. It's a king size bed and he is far away on the other side. My legs don't reach him, otherwise I'd kick him.
First, I try to reinsert my ear plugs. Then I turn my white noise machine up louder. This never works.
Finally, I get out of bed and walk around to his side.
"Fix your mask!" I whisper furiously.
"Wha?" he says.
"Fix. Your. Mask!" I repeat.
"Huh?' he asks.
"Your mask!!!" I seethe.
"Why are you yelling at me?" he asks pitifully.
Sometimes he is awake enough to fix the mask. Sometimes he is not. I have suggested that he use duct tape to keep it to his face.
This does not seem unreasonable to me.
He is away for the next few days and reader, I am so happy to know I will not be woken up by that man's breathing.
There is a time for romance and there is a time for sleep, and truly, there is a time for duct tape.