Well I think it’s safe to say, “thank goodness that’s over”.
Nearly a week of sleeping in the kid’s beds is taking it’s toll. Thursday night I was in the trundle, which hides under Miss8’s bed. It’s a foam mattress on a spring base. I’m not going to say outright I’m fat but most of my body seemed to have direct contact with the floor.
We knew the kids were on the mend yesterday when an argument broke out in front of the plasma about what to watch – for the previous four days no one really seemed to care what was on the telly.
A good sign we’re through this, beside arguments and temperatures returning to normal, is the kids ate food last night. Not a lot, but a hell of a lot more than they did the night before when I presented them with chicken noodle soup and they cried at it.
Not that I can blame them – I wasn’t eating either. I’ve managed to drop 7kg in nine days. There mustn’t be a lot of calories in tablets and capsules.
“I look fantastic,” I told Tracey this morning as I admired myself in the mirror. “If you ignore me from the shoulders up, that is.” My face is a bit haggard from the lack of sleep as much as anything. Yesterday I managed more nap time during the sunny hours than I did during each of the night time ones since Sunday.
So finally, last night, I was able to sleep in my own bed again.
I love my bed. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. Or is it abstinence? Well one of those sure did the trick cause it felt so nice to be back snuggling up with Tracey.
“Miss me?” I whispered in her ear.
“Don’t touch me,” she cooed back.
“You know, I struggle to sleep without you beside me,” I told her. “It takes me back to when I was a single dad and its kind of lonely. How’d you do?” At first I thought she must have fallen asleep but then there sort of an apologetic little cough followed by an awkward silence. “You did miss me, right?”
“Oh, sure,” she agreed.
I felt her heart wasn’t in it. “But?” I prompted, cause there was definitely a but coming.
“It was nice. You do move around a lot and breathe heavy and touch me all the time,” she said.
“That’s the two year old!” I exclaimed, pointing at Miss2, who had snuggled in next to her mum.
“Yeah, well we know where she gets it from.”
I must confess I do have a habit of doing strange things in bed. Not ‘illegal in some countries’ strange, just odd. Recently while I was asleep one of my hands apparently reached out at about 2am and tapped Tracey on the forehead. Twice.
I’m sure I had further arguments to make as to why Tracey is wrong about how much she enjoyed not having me in the bed beside her this week but the words and inclination were lost in a minor fit of coughing which took control of me at that moment. We’re all still coughing. It’s part of the fun.
A little coughing around the place I can handle. It’s attempting to sleep in the dreadfully uncomfortable kids’ beds I can do without.
Thank you to everyone for your well wishes this week. They certainly helped bolster our reserves.
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