I sleep like what?

My Honey issue #1

Honest to frigging God, I didn’t see this one coming. You guys know I’m sick, right? Don’t sick people deserve to convalesce in peace? I thought so. In fact, I made/make sure my guys always bask in comfort when they’re feeling ill at ease. Who remembers Nurse Bambi? Am I right?

Anyways, here’s the depressing truth, and the even more depressing conversation with, guess who? HONEY!

Here’s the deal. We’re sitting across from one another in the morning ready to have our coffee when I was just about to take a sip of my steaming Java and Honey says, “You sleep like a vampire.”

I pause, and the steam out of the cup rises in front of my eyes, but not enough that I can’t narrow my gaze at him. “Excuse me?”

“A vampire.” At this point he tucks his arms up crisscross over his chest and leans back like a stiff. “The undead people.”

*Imagine me hanging my head in disgust for a second and then turning to look at you without lifting it back up* Seriously? *Now I bring the old noggin up and look at him.

“Did you just notice this? I mean we’ve been married for nearly three decades, and in all that time something as creepy as this has escaped your notice?” Not that I thought for a moment that I sleep like Dracula or anything, but I find with Honey if I jab him with facts he can’t dispute, he apologizes to me faster. So I was going with the idea that maybe he was mistaken just this once. *Wink, wink* Why? Well, could be that I’m sick and I discovered if I remain in one position and I keep really still, I wouldn’t be hacking and coughing all over the freak lying beside me in bed who NOW thinks I’m a undead bat.

Honey to his credit, took a large mouthful of coffee, swallowed, and then returned his cup to the table before he shrugged. “Maybe you were just bitten.”

To which I deadpanned. “If I were you’d be the first one I’d feast on. For no other reason than I couldn’t fathom living without your wit for all eternity.

Moving onto my Honey issue #2

I didn’t see this one coming either. Yesterday I’m putting together the pasta and Caesar salad for dinner and Honey is in the kitchen, as he usually is. He’s like a big kid. Always trying to steal stuff before it’s done, or taste stuff while it’s cooking. Actually, I’m so used to this that half the time I don’t even notice, but last night? He brought something new to the table…or kitchen…or routine. There I am walking around him for the third time, filling pots and getting plates out that I finally tried to push him out of my way.

I laughed. “Would you move?” I smacked his hand away from where he was trying to grab a piece of bacon I cooked for the salad. “Just step aside a bit.”

He steps in front of me instead. “Oh, sure, that’s what you’d like, isn’t it?”

*Looks right at you and shrugs because YES that’s exactly what I wanted* I say, “Of course.”

Now you have to imagine Honey being totally dejected here. He did a great job even I was feeling a little bad for his “kick-the-can” expression until he over sold it when he said, “I was working so hard today I can’t feel my hands. They’re bloodless. Numb. The damaged one has all kinds of strange tingles in it. It’s going to fall off.”

“You’re not getting the bacon.”

“Look, it’s not getting enough blood to it.” He flashed it at me, turning it back and forth for my perusal.

I didn’t even blink. “No bacon.”

“Things fall off when they don’t get fed.”

“Don’t you mean blood to them?”

“That’s exactly what I mean,” he said eyeing the meat on the counter.

Now, not only did I blink, but I looked right down the length of him until I got to….you know where, and mused, “I wonder if Bobbit was trying to steal the bacon when his fell off?”

That got his attention. “His didn’t fall off!”

I smiled and said, “I know.”

Yeah, that must have got the blood pumping. Honey was out of the kitchen, and my hair, in no time. LOL!

Conclusion?

Tonight I shall sleep au natural. Meaning? I am going to cough and hack all I want, and Honey is going to wish for old “Vlad the Impaler” to be sleeping beside him once more.

Riley