Once in a while, my wife claims it’s frequently, I fall asleep during our evening TV time together. She doesn’t mind though, as it places my beloved controller back under her power and in her hands. She claims that when my lower lip goes slack, it’s girl-power time, and she can take the controller at-will!
For the record, I am not sleeping—I am dozing. Sleeping is snoring, twisting, and wiggling about, while dozing is more like going the the refreshment stand at half time. It prepares you for the rest of a long show, and gives one strength to make it down the hall to the bedroom, for the real sleep period. It also provides enough energy to allow one to not sleep in their clothes again.
I tell her, I am listening intently but giving my precious eyelids a break. The eye lid is what keeps us humans from starring at the sun, full force, and closes down the brain link periodically to prevent snapshot overload—like when looking at Walmart people photos. It’s important to protect those babies, shut them down, and give them the rest they deserve.
This whole pre-sleep thing seems to being getting out of hand lately, though, because we have a running battle of whether to wake/arouse me, with her eye lids OPEN command, or let me continue to energize.
I say it’s not right to unenergize me to tell me, “It’s time for bed.” Let me alone! My wife says she does it because she sleeps better when I’m in bed with her. This is nice, but insincere, as her body tells the real story when my cold feet hit her warm legs. I’m sure it is an unintended spasm, on her part, but her leg does seem to rocket out to protect her temperature stable spot. She doesn’t see the problem, but I am suspicious as her kicks are getting stronger and are moving up my thigh—I fear the inevitable.
I have taken to solving the problem though, as any retired engineer would, by preheating my feet. I place a buckwheat-hull bag in the microwave, for precisely two minutes, and then put it at the bottom of the bed, on my side. The heat warms my feet and her heart.
However, here is a little life lesson. Anything that was heated in the microwave for supper, let’s just pick baked beans, that might drip, seem to transfer their essence to a foot warmer. Eventually, said transferee will waft out from under the covers. So, if you see our kitchen light on at midnight, you’ll know we just had to have a another plate of beans before going back to bed.