My husband is a total sweetheart. I wouldn’t trade him for all the red skittles in the world. I could makes lists of all the things I love about him. In fact, I actually have. On rare occasions I bust out this list to remind myself why I can’t be mad at him. Even though he claims not to dream. And when he is not dreaming he does not talk in his sleep. He would never dream about lighting stuff on fire and be very loud and argumentative about it. When he is not sleep talking he does not shove all the pillows off the bed, including the ones I’m using. When I am not trying to stop him from not stealing the last pillow it may or may not turn into a full sleep fight. I’m even confusing myself now…..what was I talking about???
Oh yeah! So, the only time my hubby dreams is when he is super stressed out. I would cringe anytime I heard the word “loader” because this was the crappiest piece of crap in the whole crap heap at the Coalmine he worked at. Other crews would try to “fix” it and end up screwing it up worse that a wife with a new remote. They would have been better off following Ikea instructions then the manual they were supposedly trained in. He would spend days trying to undo whatever the last troglodyte had done so he could finally diagnose the original issue.
If you know anything about this man you would know that he would rather read an instruction manual than a novel. He is always searching for more knowledge. He is a perfectionist. Few things drive him crazier than a job half done. He will drive himself nuts if he can’t find a solution. He will drive himself all the way to nightmares.
That night we are about to discuss happened to be one of his “loader” nights. He had made it home late to begin with. (First sign right here) He grumbled all through dinner. (Strike 2, Dude is the mostest un-picky eater in existence) He apologized for being a grump, mumbled something about the “L” word, and excused himself to bed early. I knew I was in for a long night.
Between random cuss words and aggressive blanket stealing I was able to snag a few 30-45 minute power naps. I had managed to be deep in sleep when I felt an elbow connect dead on with my nose. It was my turn to burst out in curse words! I sat up and cradled my poor nose, making sure it wasn’t broken. Apparently this was a horrible distraction for the sleeping bear next to me because he let out a deep growl and snapped
“What’s your problem?!”
“Are you kidding me? You just hit me in the face!”
Another growl “Get over it!”
Oh heeeeeeeelllll no………. I cannot remember ever being in more shock. My hands burned to nail HIM in the face! My arms tensed holding back the overwhelming urge to throttle him right back. The electric current of anger rolled through my body, mixing with the utter confusion of how this normally kind man could be so mean, then sprinkled with a little bit of understanding and sympathy because it was so out of character for him. I started slowly counting backwards from 1 zillion to try to calm my redheaded arse down. I was going to win this battle of wills. And I did.
The next morning he left for work as he normally would. I asked him a few times throughout the day how he was feeling since he didn’t seem to sleep well last night. He was tired and his back was a little sore. (No duh! Really?!) I waited until he was off work and at a family BBQ to start cracking the Chris Brown jokes. I had already told his family about it so they were joining in the fun. The first question his mom had asked was if I had hit him back. (I got quite a few pats on the back for handling it as well as I did) The poor confused man finally had to ask what was going on. I joyfully told him about the night before. He just about fell out of his chair. If he hadn’t been a Brandenburg I’m sure he would’ve spit out his beer. He instantly wanted to know why I hadn’t hit him back! (Oh trust me buddy, I was close) I told him it was because I loved him.
We have made it a point to never go to sleep angry. We never make the other person sleep on the couch when upset. But we both know the word “loader” means someone is escaping the bed to go spend the night in safety 🙂
It's just Rya 