“What time did you wake up today?” I asked my husband this morning as I got ready for work. His sleep patterns have been off for the past few weeks.
“About a quarter to three,” he replied. “You were snoring in my ear.”
I’ll admit I’ve been stuffed up for the past few nights either due to seasonal allergies or because I have another cold. Still, I rolled my eyes.
“Gee, I wouldn’t have any idea what that’s like.”
Out of hundreds of nights sharing a bed with my husband, last night it was MY snoring that prevented one of us from sleeping.
I’m feeling expansive. I’ll ignore the nights I slept in the guest room to escape the sound sawing logs. I’ll call us even.