I had to be at work for 7:30 this morning for a thing. I know, I know, 7:30 is not that early, and the thing involves food, so that should make it easier, right? I set the alarm, and as extra insurance, promised my husband a cup of coffee* if he’d help make sure I didn’t snooze until the next Presidential election. He has to BE at work at 7, and he’s a morning person. Since he normally has no issue being loud and leaving lights on when I’m trying to sleep in, I thought I could solicit some help. This was our actual conversation last night.
Me: Will you make sure I’m up by 6?
Husband: Are you serious?
Me: Yes, I have to be on time. I’ll get up and make coffee for us before you have to go.
Husband: Um, I know what week it is. I’m not suicidal. It’s THAT TIME, that set aside time of DAYS every man in a committed relationship dreads. Do you know how hard you are to wake up anyway? That initial RAWR is scary. [serious face] [dramatic pause] I’d rather join the marines. And be a bullet sponge.¹
*We have a standing joke that I committed a grievous act of false advertising by getting up early while we were dating and making coffee. He thought I was a morning person. WRONG-O. The truth was, I was (a) so excited to be in a new relationship that I didn’t need sleep and (b) it felt weird sleeping in someone’s room without them and (c) he’s practically deaf and likes to watch the news at full volume at the crack of dawn so I had no opportunity to sleep in whilst we lived in a 600 SF apartment†† and (d) I was bored and wanted to be domestic.
¹Ouch
††Now that the TV is at the opposite end of the house as the master bedroom, I get some reprieve, but no much. Closing doors and having a loud whirring fan help, though.
I made it. I didn’t breathe fire. I even stumbled downstairs to make coffee. But, MAN.
Is it naptime yet?
What You've Been Saying