While visions of Timbits danced in his head...
Last night was our first night back in our own beds, after an extended weekend stay at the comfort of my parents' home in Stratford.
And what a weekend it was... We were kept delightfully busy, gorging on good theatre, great food, and wonderful company. A thoroughly enjoyable, exhausting time was had by all.
After the long, raucous two-hour drive home yesterday, the children, their father and I were all in need of a good night's sleep.
And everyone slept. Everyone except me, that is.
For my husband is what you could call a "restless sleeper". Actually, he isn't just a restless sleeper, he is an active dreamer. He dreams about anything and everything... he talks and laughs and sometimes even shouts in his sleep. And when at last, he wakes up, refreshed and ready to start his day, he remembers absolutely none of it.
I, his bed-fellow, on the other hand...
Well, suffice it to say, I don't sleep much. And when I do, it's usually with earplugs.
Last night was not a good night for me. Because the dreams were busy ones, and it quickly became apparent at about 4am, that if I didn't wake my husband from his fascinating slumber, I wouldn't be getting ANY sleep myself.
Me: (reaching over and patting him on the shoulder) Honey, wake up. You're dreaming again.
Him: (eyes closed, with a big, goofy grin on his face) Haaaarrrruuummmppppggggppphhhh...
Me: (Shaking him by the arm a little) Wake up!! You're dreaming!! Turn over!! TURN OVER!!
Him: (suddenly sitting bolt upright) HUH??! Whazzat??! TIM HORTONS??!!!!
Me: (in utter disbelief) Are you KIDDING ME? All that happy dreaming stuff, and what you're actually dreaming about is DONUTS??
Him: (shaking his head) Why the heck did you wake me up, anyway??!
It must be a middle-aged-Canadian-male thing. I simply cannot believe that Tim Hortons Donuts has taken over my husband's nocturnal subconscious obsessions...
On a positive note, I suppose I could be grateful that it does not appear I have any competition in the form of pneumatic, bodacious Hollywood starlets as the subject of my husband's dreams...
At the moment, I'm still "safe".
Let's just hope that little red-haired chick from Wendy's Hamburger advertisements doesn't make an appearance on the scene any time soon...
5 comments:
Oh, poor you!
I have such sympathy for you...my hubby snores like a BEAR and I cannot wear ear plugs for two reasons:
they drive me nuts and then I really cannot sleep AND I wouldn't hear the bunny if she woke up (and we know for sure that the hubby wouldn't hear her!
Your post calls to mind a bit by comedian Ron James about a visit to Tim's and the Donut dispensing "Betty" in the Hot Hair Net and the "sexy" polyester blouse ...
So far, this aging Canadian male has been spared dreams about donuts ... I hope it doesn't happen any time soon ... I'll keep MY dreams to myself ...
Oh, it's taken me YEARS to make the nocturnal situation bearable... I can only use one certain brand of earplugs (the rest I seem to be allergic to-- imagine, an allergic reaction INSIDE YOUR EAR). I keep one end of the baby monitor out in the hallway (my kids sleep with their bedroom doors open) and the other end turned up FULL BLAST on my night stand, so I can hear little voices if they call me.
It's a delicate balance...
Hmmm, Shawn... I believe that a certain Large Birthday fast approacheth... and my bet is that YOUR dreams actually feature cookies, not donuts...
Ha ha ha ha! One summer, when my husband was heavy into golfing, he sat up one night and yelled, "The golf balls are 3 for a dollar!"
Hee hee hee. I won't let him forget it! :)
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