I recently chatted with a friend whose hubby brings her coffee in bed every morning. I laughed to myself as I destroyed any chance of that happening in the Little house years ago, but then coincidentally I was served coffee in bed this morning.
It could be me, a receiver of royal treatment, but I rebuked earlier attempts by my hubby who is a wonderful morning person, up with the first beep of the alarm and smiling to greet the day. His cup is not only half full; sometimes it just overflows, splashing all over my waking grumpiness. They say opposites attract and hubby and I are living proof. No matter what time we go to bed, midnight to five in the morning, he is as happy as a lottery winner when he wakes. He’s happy to be alive with a whole new day to explore while I curse the sun and chirping birds outside the window.
When we first moved in together, as the alarm beeped and the sun peeked through the cracks in the blinds, he greeted me with a lively “Up and at’em sweetie, it’s a new and beautiful day!” His voice was melodious, filled with happiness and the promise of a whole new day of possibilities, happy to be in love with me and our new life together. Happy, happy, happy, oh blessed joy. Is there anything more annoying? When a relationship is building in the first quarter and the ring isn’t on the finger to cement the relationship so it doesn’t crumble when the truths come out, there can be a little deception going on to put forth one as lovelier than perhaps one is.
Day after day I was assaulted with this cheery optimism, clawing away at the finish on my deceptive morning veneer. My smile grew thinner and faker, my lips pulled back baring teeth like a junkyard dog as his jolliness plucked the string of my very last nerve. I think I managed a month without snapping, newly in love I was happy to see the sunshine in his smitten eyes but then a particularly sleepless night destroyed the ability to keep up the charade. I turned on him, akin to the possessed girl in the exorcist; I think my head even turned 360. With teeth clenched and only my lips moving, I hissed. “Stop with the cheerful crap…don’t ever say up and at’em again!” My face was mean, my words audible poison.
With eyes barely open, I acknowledged the hurt and shock in his. I knew I had to come clean with an explanation. “I’m just not a morning person sweetie”, I cooed, trying to smooth things over with my little girl, cutesy voice, “I need eight hours or I’m just a little cranky” I added.
Truthfully, he was 50% responsible for my lack of morning glory. Considering we never went to bed until at least one, if not two in the morning when I had to get up at 7:30 for work. We are a couple of reincarnated cats, when midnight hits we're ready to prowl. Considering I was riding a sleep deficit every night, I’m not sure how I managed a whole month without losing it. Somehow each day I managed to wake up, but was sour and I was used to being that way, until Mr. Perky came along. What’s to celebrate when all I wanted to do was crawl back in and sleep until I felt refreshed, then I could be a happy camper, embrace the day with unbridled enthusiasm. It still might someday, we're hoping.....it's on my bucket list.....
So that was that, he left me alone experiencing the joy of a new day on his own, slinking out of bed as if I was covered with razor sharp quills. He no longer offered coffee or breakfast, I was avoided like the morning plague I am. To this day I think he’s a little scared of me when I ask him to help wake me up early if I have an appointment. He calls up to me from the safety of downstairs as not to witness my angst and whining. I guess once bitten twice shy. After all these years he’s still perky and I’m still nasty, mostly because we never go to bed before 1:00 AM. Sometime he phones the house phone from his cell, the ringing can pry me awake better than all else we've tried.
So this morning I was on the sofa, which was technically my bed for the night. I tossed and turned until 3:00 am and finally said screw it and headed downstairs with my book to quiet my racing brain. A juicy murder can do that believe it or not. I read for an hour then stocked the wood stove and crawled on the sofa under a wool throw so I wouldn’t wake hubby and the pups all nestled upstairs in our bed. So when he placed a hot brew on the coffee table for me this morning, he was technically serving me in bed….and I have to admit, it was rather nice.
It could be me, a receiver of royal treatment, but I rebuked earlier attempts by my hubby who is a wonderful morning person, up with the first beep of the alarm and smiling to greet the day. His cup is not only half full; sometimes it just overflows, splashing all over my waking grumpiness. They say opposites attract and hubby and I are living proof. No matter what time we go to bed, midnight to five in the morning, he is as happy as a lottery winner when he wakes. He’s happy to be alive with a whole new day to explore while I curse the sun and chirping birds outside the window.
When we first moved in together, as the alarm beeped and the sun peeked through the cracks in the blinds, he greeted me with a lively “Up and at’em sweetie, it’s a new and beautiful day!” His voice was melodious, filled with happiness and the promise of a whole new day of possibilities, happy to be in love with me and our new life together. Happy, happy, happy, oh blessed joy. Is there anything more annoying? When a relationship is building in the first quarter and the ring isn’t on the finger to cement the relationship so it doesn’t crumble when the truths come out, there can be a little deception going on to put forth one as lovelier than perhaps one is.
Day after day I was assaulted with this cheery optimism, clawing away at the finish on my deceptive morning veneer. My smile grew thinner and faker, my lips pulled back baring teeth like a junkyard dog as his jolliness plucked the string of my very last nerve. I think I managed a month without snapping, newly in love I was happy to see the sunshine in his smitten eyes but then a particularly sleepless night destroyed the ability to keep up the charade. I turned on him, akin to the possessed girl in the exorcist; I think my head even turned 360. With teeth clenched and only my lips moving, I hissed. “Stop with the cheerful crap…don’t ever say up and at’em again!” My face was mean, my words audible poison.
With eyes barely open, I acknowledged the hurt and shock in his. I knew I had to come clean with an explanation. “I’m just not a morning person sweetie”, I cooed, trying to smooth things over with my little girl, cutesy voice, “I need eight hours or I’m just a little cranky” I added.
Truthfully, he was 50% responsible for my lack of morning glory. Considering we never went to bed until at least one, if not two in the morning when I had to get up at 7:30 for work. We are a couple of reincarnated cats, when midnight hits we're ready to prowl. Considering I was riding a sleep deficit every night, I’m not sure how I managed a whole month without losing it. Somehow each day I managed to wake up, but was sour and I was used to being that way, until Mr. Perky came along. What’s to celebrate when all I wanted to do was crawl back in and sleep until I felt refreshed, then I could be a happy camper, embrace the day with unbridled enthusiasm. It still might someday, we're hoping.....it's on my bucket list.....
So that was that, he left me alone experiencing the joy of a new day on his own, slinking out of bed as if I was covered with razor sharp quills. He no longer offered coffee or breakfast, I was avoided like the morning plague I am. To this day I think he’s a little scared of me when I ask him to help wake me up early if I have an appointment. He calls up to me from the safety of downstairs as not to witness my angst and whining. I guess once bitten twice shy. After all these years he’s still perky and I’m still nasty, mostly because we never go to bed before 1:00 AM. Sometime he phones the house phone from his cell, the ringing can pry me awake better than all else we've tried.
So this morning I was on the sofa, which was technically my bed for the night. I tossed and turned until 3:00 am and finally said screw it and headed downstairs with my book to quiet my racing brain. A juicy murder can do that believe it or not. I read for an hour then stocked the wood stove and crawled on the sofa under a wool throw so I wouldn’t wake hubby and the pups all nestled upstairs in our bed. So when he placed a hot brew on the coffee table for me this morning, he was technically serving me in bed….and I have to admit, it was rather nice.
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