Monday, December 11, 2006
A Long Winter's Nap
The electric blanket is on as I snuggle down into my black wrought iron canopy bed. Beside me lies the love of my life, the Mr. The temperatures plummit as is the way of winter Michigan nights. Bright starlight shines outside as the house quiets and settles creaking on time-worn foundations.
I become aware of something then. It is familiar enough to not alarm, and yet powerful enough to disturb the slumber I seek. It parts my hair and makes me squint as I open my eyes in frustration. What is this force that interrupts the chill night air and steals away the promise of sweet, warm sleep?
Is it the famed Nor' Easter?
A blizzard? The Winter Warlock of Christmas tales come to vent his wrath on mankind?
No, it's the Mr. with this freak high-powered exhale he does when he sleeps. Sometimes accompanied by skull-vibrating snoring but oftentimes just a weird pursed lip sort of rotten night-breath blast either into my face or the back of my head.
There is no way any person could exhale this hard and not be doing it intentionally.
It makes me want to sock him in the eye.