So I woke up this morning at precisely 3:00, and I never went back to sleep. Nope. Not at all. Not even for two minutes. It was like I was a rancher, and it was time to get up and stack hay in the cool of the dark morning hours, before the blazing sunshine came out and fried us all to a crisp and made the chickens run for cover beneath the front porch.
The only thing wrong with this little scenario is (1) it’s not haying season around these parts, because of FEBRUARY; (2) it was actually pouring rain at 3:00 in the morning, which is absurd for February in these parts, because now all we need is a good COLD SNAP to turn Small Town into a several-miles-wide skating rink, where everyone slides off the road and learns to swear, so there was no danger of having unbearable sunshine; and (3) I am not, the last time I checked, a ranchy sort of girl.
(Although, in hindsight, I wish I was a ranch girl, because OH MY WORD! I think I have found my calling in life, and it is to be a Rodeo Queen. I can imagine very few jobs in life where you get to curl your hair with hot rollers every day and wear snap-front Wrangler shirts with silver thread and rhinestones, and wave to the crowd while you ride your pony and carry the American flag around the football field every time the Small Town High boys score a touchdown out there.)
(When I mentioned my life’s calling to Hubs not long ago, he encouraged me to just GO FOR IT, because I think he likes the idea of being married to the Rodeo Queen.)
(For the record, that would be exactly like being married to ME for Hubs, because I have the sparkly personality for this career. I just lack a good barrel-racing horse and a cowhide purse adorned with bling and sapphires. Plus, if I established myself by going ON RECORD as the local Rodeo Queen, I could probably trade cooking dinner every night for reading to preschool children around town and cutting ribbons whenever a new salon opens up.)
But back to being awake at 3:00 this morning.
The sad thing about that is simply this: Last night was one of the MOST QUIET NIGHTS we have had at the Jedi Manor in what feels like ages, because Hubs finally… how do you say this delicately? DIDN’T SNORE LIKE A CARTOON CHARACTER IN AN ANIMATED FEATURE FILM.
Hubs, you see, announced last week that he honestly felt like his head was going to explode — just up and POP GOES THE WEASEL! — so I encouraged him to see the doctor, and I knew things were seriously bad when he simply drooped his little head and whispered, “Okay.” According to Hubs, John Wayne never saw a doctor, and if that mode of treatment was good enough for him, then avoiding physicians is good enough for Hubs, too.
Hubs came home early that afternoon and said that our good friend Travis had diagnosed him with a double ear infection and a raging sinus infection.
That, people, is a hat trick of misery.
And Hubs didn’t feel well, either.
I think it goes without saying that Hubs had some head pressure, and when he laid himself down at night, gravity was no longer working in his favor, so everything pooled and congealed and caused him to snore. He is the only living person I know who is capable of snoring WHILE SLEEPING ON HIS BELLY when he has a sinus infection. Naturally, I kicked him several times in the middle of the night, but all this did was wake the sleeping rattlesnake, who would sit up in bed and yell, “I AM SUFFOCATING! I CAN’T HELP IT!”
Y’all can imagine that our week and my tendency to list toward the insomnia side of the spectrum went very well.
We colored the word EXHAUSTED with all the BRIGHT crayons.
Until last night, that is.
Because apparently the antibiotics have worked their wonders and killed the lingering germs in Hubs’ sinus cavity and his eardrums, and he was a SILENT SLEEPER last night. Which only makes sense that this would be the morning that I would wake up at 3:00 and never go back to sleep.
I am happy to report that Hubs has mended up nicely and recovered, and I would like to leave y’all with a little video which PERFECTLY and VERY ACCURATELY lets you know exactly how our week went.
It’s a little video entitled THE MAN COLD.
And Hubs has been using his British accent all week long, to call me Laahhh-ruh.
(It’s not funny any more. Believe me.)
Click RIGHT HERE for a look into what our week was like, and then y’all have a great Wednesday evening.