In the middle of the night I was awoken by a loud truck. It rumbled and made all sorts of strange noises...
Only the thing was, it wasn't a loud truck, it was my husband snoring.
I'll be the first to admit that I do not like my sleep interupted. I mean who does? But I really don't like it interupted when it has taken me hours to finally fall asleep.
Tom wasn't even supposed to be home. On the calender it was marked WORK so I assumed he was going. But when he woke up yesterday afternoon and I asked if he could please get the mail before work he gave me a Look and went,
"I don't have work today."
Which confused me because on the calender it stated that he did. So yes, I admit I was looking forward to another quiet night. I asked Tom to explain but he sort of smirked at me because, for reasons I cannot explain, he gets amused when I get myself all worked up. When I was two seconds away from hurling my slipper at his egg shaped head he finally said,
"I messed up my schedule. I actually have tonight and Thursday off. Then I go back on Friday, Saturday and Sunday."
So I asked if he could pick up the mail and he went, "I'm not going to the base just to pick up the mail."
(It's a fifteen minute drive from our house.)
In the end he said the only way he'd go is if we had Taco Bell. The man is obsessed with eating out, I tell you. I'm somewhat insulted because it tells me that he'd rather shovel grade D meat down his throat than my delicious tacos with the better meat. But whatever. Going out means that I don't have to cook. Which means I don't have to clean up after I cook. Which means I can clean something else. Hah. No really, it is nice not having to scrub down the kitchen after a meal so I usually always agree with him.
We had our Taco Bell. Got the mail. I got packages. Then we came home and Tom turned into a complete baby. After he ate he all of a sudden stretched out on the couch. Tom is six feet so he takes up ALL the couch and then some. This makes it hard to sit down unless you either sit down on him which makes him squelch or you can sit with his long legs drapped over your lap which isn't comfortable because they're bony. I asked him to sit up so I could sit and he gave me his pathetic but-I'm-in-pain look and uttered out,
"I have a headache."
I nodded and went, "Lovely, I'll get the Tylenol."
But he decided to be brave. Or something. He said, "No Tylenol," in a dramatic done.
(And the Oscar goes to TOM for his pathetic I-have-a-headache-but-will-not-take-Tylenol speech.)
I asked what he planned on doing and he said, "Resting."
Across our couch.
Then he started to complain about Tommy.
"He's so LOUD, can he not be quiet for two seconds, does he not realize I have a SPLITTING HEADACHE?"
What a baby. When I have a headache I deal with it. I don't announce it to the entire room. I don't take up the entire couch.
For a few hours I had to deal with Tom's constant whining. It was the same thing,
"He's so LOUD, can he not be quiet for two seconds??"
I even had to take Tommy with me when I took my bath. I couldn't even enjoy my bath because Tommy kept staring at me while I shaved my legs. And that's just weird. I kept asking him to go into his room and play and he'd come right back and go,
Thankfully Tom stopped his whole couch hogging/whining bit. Honestly unless he's passed an eight pound human being from his loins then he doesn't get much sympathy from me. Yes headaches suck but take a Tylenol man, don't try and be brave for me.
When I finally decided I was going to bed I thought that I'd be getting the bed to myself for a few hours. Because Tom is used to staying up at night. But nope. He wanted to come to. *Sighs* I was feeling exhausted so I gave him a quick peck and turned around, eager to fall asleep.
"Wow wow wow why are you so far away?" Tom asked and pulled me to him. He started touching places and I backed away, saying I was tired.
"But I wanted sexxxxx," he said in a whiney voice.
I wanted less whining at night. I wanted to enjoy my bath alone.
I told him too bad. So he started massaging me, hoping to get me into the mood. Then he took my hand and held it for a few seconds before guiding it to his...well, you get the picture. Then he went,
"How about holding my balls all night?"
Excuse me? Your BALLS?
I quickly yanked my hand away and told him to hush, that I was trying to sleep and couldn't he be quiet for more than two seconds? (Hah, he failed to see that I was making fun of his whining earlier.)
He was so shifty. I'd fall asleep, he's shift and I'd wake up. I'd fall asleep and he'd snore so loud that I thought we were in the middle of a thunderstorm. In the end I snapped at him,
"Stop moving, stop snoring, stop stop STOP!"
Tom was all, "Geez..."
It wasn't the best sleep which is why I'm sipping down a diet Coke for the caffeine. It's days like this where I wish I drank coffee.