Last night at 7:00 pm I was exhausted. I knew if I went to bed I'd wake up at 11:00 or 12:00 and be wide awake so I told Phil I was just going to take a nap. "Come upstairs and lie down with me and we'll visit for a little while," I said.
He wasn't interested. One of my friends called. "Come over," I said. "We'll lie on the bed and visit."
She didn't say she thought that was a little strange. She didn't say I was fully weird but I'm pretty sure she rolled her eyes. She declined.
I was in the bathroom--yes, we have a phone in the bathroom. Best gift I ever gave Phil, my phone loving husband. I looked in the mirror at a bleary Lynne. I really needed a nap although I looked pretty good, bleary. Better than normal. Perhaps the world should dawn smudgy glasses so I could look better than normal on a daily basis.
I stumbled into the dark bedroom and threw back the covers. They didn't throw back very far but I crawled in anyway. My head hit something hard. It was big...and warm. I started to scream when my husband chuckled. He was lying on top of the covers, that's why they wouldn't move. Then he moved as I attempted to beat him to death.
After my adrenaline was absorbed I did manage a nap and was up in time to go to bed.