Say Anything

I have always treasured sleep. I am an 8 hour a night person. If by some reason I don’t get my full 8 hours, I get a tad bit grumpy. Needless to say, I’ve been a tad bit grumpy for most of the last 7 years. I have to admit, somewhere between year 4 and 5, I got a bit spoiled in the sleep department. Smoochie was sleeping through the night and I have come to realize I was definitely snoring in high style.

I have to admit that I am a sleep-o-holic. I have slept alone (when I should have been cleaning), I have hidden my intent to nap behind the ruse of reading a book while stretching out in bed, and I have shipped Smoochie off to Grandma’s for the sole purpose of prolonged horizontal snoozing. It should not be a surprise to anyone who knows me that I will say anything to anyone if it means I can roll over and go back to sleep. I’m pretty sure I would tell Smoochie he could ride his scooter to Chuck-E-Cheeses (the closest one is at least 30 miles away) if he asked me for permission. “You want a pet snake honey, sure. Just let Mommy sleep for 30 more minutes.”

One afternoon when we still lived in Carbondale, Bonehead came home from class to find my car in the driveway. I had an 8-5 job on weekdays, and I should not have been home in the middle of the afternoon. So, of course, Bonehead was immediately worried about the wife who was home from work early.

He walked into our house, found me sound asleep in bed, and proceeded to ask me if I was ok. My response?

“I’m fine. I’m just pregnant.”

And that’s how I told the poor man he was going to be a father before Smoochie’s arrival.

I tried to make up for my shortcomings with Critter’s impending arrival. This time I found out 3 days before Father’s day, so I kept the news to myself and insured any napping I did was uninterrupted.

On the arrival of Father’s day, he opened a card. The outside read “For Father’s day we thought you could use a little peace and quiet.” Then inside there were two cotton balls. And a handwritten note from me- “Next year you’ll need twice as much cotton. Love, Smooch and his future brother or sister.”

He didn’t get it right away. Just when I started thinking I should have slapped him upside the head with the news like I did the first time, it sunk in.

This year he jokingly threatened me with divorce if there was a repeat of last year’s news. No repeats. This year he got shirts that Smoochie picked out himself and lunch from Panera because Critter tends to scream at the top of his lungs in restaurants and I wind up taking him out to the car and eating my food cold at home three hours later. So we picked up Panera and brought it home. Now that I think about it, Bonehead might have found cotton balls handy.

All in all it was a good Father’s day, even if I didn’t get a nap.