I went to bed last night, just a couple of hours after Carole.
I’d only got in from work at about half past nine, so I wanted a little bit of time to wind down and chill but, equally, I knew I needed to be up early this morning for an early game at work.
I went up to bed at about 12.30 because I am nothing if not a rebel.
And when I got there, to my delight and surprise, I found Carole sleeping diagonally across the bed (if she’d been reading Harry Potter before she fell asleep, she’d have been sleeping Diagon Alley). So basically, her lower half was on her side of the bed and her upper half was on my side of the bed.
And when I say that I found her sleeping diagonally, what I mean to say is I tried to get into bed but found myself unable to get myself in. I tried. I really tried. Because the last thing you want to do is wake Carole up in the night. For three reasons:-
- She will start a chat. This has happened in the past. You’re awake, she’s awake. Let’s talk about the colour we’d like the kitchen cupboards to be. Or something like that.
- She will scream or shout “What?” Again, this has happened in the past. What normally happens is she falls back to sleep almost immediately – such is her fight or flight response – and this would not help in an instance when I am trying to move her across the bed.
- You wake her up, but then dare to fall asleep before she does. She will then wake up to stop you snoring which is, apparently, stopping her sleep. Despite the fact that she can sleep through earthquakes (well, just the one we had in the UK about ten years ago), movies, tv shows, lights being on, car fires and who knows what else. You then have to not sleep until you believe she is asleep…
I had to wake her up. I tried to slide my hands under her and lift, didn’t work. I tried to just shove her across the bed – gently. Again, no dice. I tried a heftier shove. Nothing. I just tapped her awake in the end. In point 3, above, she kicks me repeatedly. I didn’t do that – I could have, as my legs were the only things I could get in the bed.
What’s even worse about all this is that come the morning she doesn’t even remember any of it. None of it. She’ll think it’s a dream, caught up in something she’s dreamt about which, currently, revolves around Huddersfield University’s Music Department and her availability to play a brass instrument in a show.
It’s not a dream, it’s me. Trying to move you across the bloody bed so I can sleep.