It was a quiet weekend. I have a love/hate relationship with those kinds of weekends. The achy, lazy, old part of me appreciates the calm and quiet. The Gigi in me hates them. There are no little ones to hug and wait on; no other family members to laugh with. Pap and I watch a lot of TV; chuckle at the zoo antics and try not to get on each other's nerves. We've reached a place where we are comfortable with it being "just us."
Welp! Enough of that. I have a fresh cup of coffee, the stereo turned up and the windows open. The stereo is on extra loud because it is competing with my neighbors' (from hell) remodeling project. There is someone on their roof with a chainsaw. Lord knows what that's about. After a weekend marathon of horror flicks, I can only fantasize about him solving our neighbor problem...darn I hate to get my hopes up!
Miss Rooney (I'm thinking of changing her name to Ruby - she doesn't come when she's called anyway, so I doubt she'll even notice) did not get in bed with us last night. She wanted to but was on the wrong side of the bed. You see, I have a throw rug on my side, but Andy doesn't, so she couldn't get any traction to hoist her 140+ poundage up to the bed. I suggested dragging in the ramp we use to get them into the SUV. Andy didn't think that was helpful or funny. I strive to be both.
Anyway, I went to sleep peacefully and with no barrier blocking my ability to move. At somewhere around 3 a.m. I was awakened by a light searing into my eyelids. It was the security light outside my window. Then there was a lot of grumbling and door slamming (it rained yesterday.) Then I heard the Big Guy say, "Okay - you pooped, so go back to sleep!" I was pretty sure he wasn't talking to me, but I checked under the covers just to make sure. He was addressing poor Jack who had the misfortune to need to go at 3 a.m. Jack sleeps near Andy's side of the bed. (Insert evil chuckle.)
Which leads me to the fundamental difference between men and women:
1) If a woman is awakened in the middle of the night, she will stalk around quietly. Even if she suspects a terrorist or zombie invasion, she will look first, and only wake up hubby when she is either shot or fighting off a zombie.
2) If a man is awakened in the middle of the night - everyone must WAKE UP to join him in his misery. My husband, bless his heart, is all man. He does not use his "inside voice." He slams doors, turns on lights and basically makes more noise than - well - this...
Now, most folks, awakened in such a startling way would assume they were under attack and, if armed, would probably start shooting at the source of the chaos. I mean, who else but an inconsiderate thug would make so much noise in the middle of the night?
Fortunately, we do not own firearms. Andy declared early on (probably after our first fight) we would never own a gun. That, and the fact his Uncle George shot his own reflection in a mirror one night when his wife had gotten up in the middle of the night for a glass of water. The family was grateful he hadn't shot Aunt Emmy.
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| Andy's biggest fear! |
So, eventually, the house settled back down. Jack was feeling lighter, Andy went back to sleep (I could tell by the sound of his snoring) and I was WIDE
AWAKE. I thought about getting up, then decided to just stay in bed and fantasize all of the ways in which I will torture my husband when he retires. I just can't, in all good conscience, screw with him while he's working so hard. I think he knows this is my plan, which is why he keeps moving his retirement up. At this rate, he will work until he's 90. By then I will have forgotten all the ways in which he pissed me off. Or so he thinks...
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