So last night was not a good night’s sleep. Mr. Hot Stuff is getting a cold. I know because he mentioned having a sore throat before bed. I would have known anyway because he was snoring all night. At some point in the night, between wishing there was a comfortable alternate place to sleep in this apartment where I wouldn’t hear him, and wanting to shove his snorry body to some remote region of the Gobi desert, I actually did have the generous thought that even though he was asleep and I wasn’t, the snoring meant that he probably wasn’t actually getting all the rest his body needed, poor guy. Yeah, that thought happened somewhere around the 1:30 a.m. wake-up, or maybe the 3:30 a.m. wake-up, or was it the 4:30 a.m. wake-up? No, now that I think a little, I’m pretty sure it was the 5:45 a.m. wake-up.

Finally at 6:15 I got up. It was a waste to even bother being in bed at this point. I grabbed my netbook computer, and plonked into a chair. I think the “dong-dunk” sound it made when it came on woke up Mr. Hot-Snorry-Stuff. Here’s the bad part: I didn’t even care. He sat up in bed and I could tell he was saying his morning prayers. Yeah, that was probably a good thing. Given that my snarky, sleep-deprived, Inner Brat was not under good control at the time.

After he got dressed, I rummaged around a little and found the Zicam Oral Spray. I kinda glared at him and said, “You’re getting a cold.”

“Yeah, So?” he said a little defensively.

I slapped the Zicam into his hand and said, “Here, use this. Please. You snored all night.” He looked a little surprised, as though I might actually be blaming him for something he had no control over. Okay. Maybe I was. Just a little bit.

“Oh and don’t follow the directions on the bottle.”

He looked at me in confusion.

“You’ll gag to death and waste the medicine. It’s homeopathic so just use one spray, three or four times today.” I kinda snapped.

He just looked at the bottle silently. This was probably the wisest response.

I mean really, a bystander would think that I didn’t care that he actually felt better and got better, only that he stop snoring. Well the bystander would be wrong. It’s just that my knuckle-headed, sleep-deprived Inner Brat had over-powered the loving, sleep-deprived wife in me and was operating my mouth and facial expressions, much to the dismay of the bound and gagged, Loving Wife looking on from another part of my mind.

I’m so sorry, Dear Mr. Hot Stuff. Please forgive my snarkiness this morning. I hope you use the Zicam today. I hope you feel better soon so you can get some quality sleep and stop snorring so I can too.

Loving Wife to Inner Brat: You really know how to mess up an apology, don’t you?

Inner Brat: Just shut up and let me sleep, Thank You.

Sigh. Someone just commit me now.

winner-winner, chicken dinner 🙂