Let Sleeping Mums Lie

It’s my gran’s funeral tomorrow, so mum has been at ours since Sunday as the service – possibly the quickest in funeral history – is taking place just up the road. And it’s way easier to go from here than drive all the way to Halifax to get mum only to have to come back to five minutes from the house to do the do, as it were.

So it’s meant I’ve spent a day with mum today where we’ve both just chilled out watching the Olympics and eating chocolate biscuits. I mean that has been it in a nutshell.

And, obviously, I’ve spent a large portion of the day being amused at mum’s ability to just nod off within seconds.

Not that she’d ever dream of going for an actual nap. She maintains that once you have opted to lie down, you are admitting that you’re going for a nap and from that there is no return. What I would say to her argument is that she is seriously – seriously – underestimating the amazingness of a good afternoon nap. They are freaking amazing if you can get one in.

But no, you wouldn’t want to go the whole hog and commit to a nap.

It’s much better to just be talking then stop talking and,before the conversation moves back to you for further input, have a ridiculously long blink during which time you have fallen asleep and are now quietly snoring on the couch. Because somehow that is different to a nap. It doesn’t count, I guess, because you’ve not assumed the horizontal position.

Even though you’ve had several microbursts of sleep which, when tallied, would add up to a pretty decent nap. You still haven’t napped. You’d never dream of napping.

I really wanted to go for a nap today. I felt I couldn’t as it would be rude to leave mum downstairs, petrified of the Sky Remote, while I lay upstairs enjoying a bit of shut eye. I made the mistake of lying on the bed while I was doing something and ended up staying there for a while – not asleep, because I had a cat on my back – but just lying.

And I came down and mum was asleep. At which I sniggered. And then she was awake and asking me why I was laughing, so I told her and she was asleep again.

I should have just taken that opportunity to disappear for a nap myself. If I’d left the room she’d have just carried on regardless. As it was, any slight noise I made stirred her – momentarily, at least – from her slumber.

Not that she would ever dream of napping though…