As much as I hate to admit it (and often deny it), my reign of bad wifedom extends to our bedtime too.
I've always been a night owl, and despite Parker's hope that our being married would change that...it hasn't.
If anyone altered their schedule, he did (at the start...). Now that he's back to his early bird ways, however, we're hitting the pillow at least an hour apart on any given night (he tends toward 11-12 o'clock bedtimes...i'm more of a 12:30 to 2 kind of girl).
It's worked out relatively well up to this point (on my end...).
He wakes me up when he leaves in the morning for a quick goodbye kiss and hug (or cuddle depending on how long it takes for him to convince me he has to go).
And I create little hiccups in his sleep cycle with my late-night barnacle-like cuddle-fests, lamp-lit scripture reading, computer volume issues (like when you click on a page with sound without realizing it with your sound up full blast and have a small heart attack), and inability to resist the temptation to kiss his sweet little sleeping face.
Oh there's many, many ways I find to be a "beedin" bedmate!
But my Parker's quickly learned to cope. And we've actually had quite the success with our sleep system...
...until last night.
With the hour hand hanging precariously close to 3, I decide I'd better call it a night.
Good luck finding the patience to work with your beloved bank patrons on less than 5-hours sleep, says a little voice in my head.
Better than nothing, I reply, and quietly click our front lock into place.
I hit the lights room by room (isn't this standard protocol for all girls up alone late at night? i may not be afraid of the dark, but I sure as heck don't think that means I need to wander aimlessly through its creepy clutches) and silently slide open the door to our bedroom.
By the time I make it here the apartment's pitch black...
cue overactive imagination.
Before we'd invested in curtains (or even said "I do.") I stayed in our apartment with a few of my BFFs. That night (after commenting on how awkward it was to sleep on Parker's side of the bed before he ever had) my dear friend Jillian asked, "Do you ever look at that window and worry someone will be in the little cubby-space looking back at you?"
Well I hadn't. But now I do...all the time.
We have daylight windows in our front rooms, which I love, but it's true that we are in a basement...and have basement windows...creepy basement windows.
And tonight that creepy basement window catches my eye again. I leap onto the bed as quickly as I can to avoid the window creeper's under-the-bed/ankle-grabbing accomplice and snuggle up as close as I can to my man.
He begins to stir, letting out a string of sleepy yell-whispers. Guilt sets in.
You spend the WHOLE day trying to be good wife and then go and let bad bedmate wife ruin it all. Way to go Chels.
Fix this...
I snuggle up closer to Parker and coo apologies in his ear..
"I'm so sorry sweetie. Are you ok?"
The yell-whisper returns. But this time I hear it...word for word.
"Im'ma gonna shoot you straight in the face!"
I panic and put as much distance between the two of us as the bed will allow (which puts me precariously close to the creepy window...as long as ankle-grabber stays put I feel it's a safe trade-off).
I must be having a "When-A-Stranger-Calls" moment. Creepy window man is in my bed...
Ok...so I didn't really think that.
But I did have some serious concerns about Parker's dream themes.
Maybe this is why they tell you not to wake sleep-walkers...
Either way, within 5 minutes creepy-window-man sat back out on the ledge while I lay safely in my husband's arms. I decided I'd text him the incident so, come morning, he could see how absolutely wrong he is about my having the better end of the deal in the sleep system.
Instead he just woke up to a good laugh and cropped it all up to sports radio. I guess officials recently arrested some Florida football player for threatening to kill his girlfriend and the coaches sissy-ed out on his suspension and let him back on the team.
Thanks honey...I feel so much better about it all now.
I might just have to take my co-worker's advice and "git him before he gits me" (oh Shauna...she's a riot).
'Til then, I'll be curbing my bad bedmate ways, investing in a small safety force-field for sleeping, or bunking up on the couch.
I'm really counting on number 2.
Happy weekend-before-Halloween!
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