I am quite new to this marriage phenomenon, having launched myself into it at, shall we say, a slightly advanced age. This left me with certain life expectations. Oh and by the way, don’t tell me this post has nothing to do with animals for today, I perceive my basket case husband as precisely that.
My expectations of “normality” revolve around such idiotic ideas as follows:
- When you are tired – go to bed.
- When in bed – go to sleep.
Now, I understand that, having lived the selfish single life for more years than I care to mention, I might be mistaken. This is where I need your help, for what I have experienced during married life goes along the following, completely different lines:
- When tired – tell wife to go to bed.
- Tell wife you are switching off your computer and then play some absurd fantasy game with other wayward husbands, somewhere off in the global ether we now call the internet.
- Occasionally, whilst playing ridiculous game, call out to wife to make sure she doesn’t do anything absurd like fall asleep. Shout out, into the quiet of the dark night, that you love her (because that, apparently, forgives all evils).
- Having kept wife awake for a suitable amount of time, come to bed with a stupid little guilty grin and proceed to try to cuddle her – the purpose of which I assume is related to the “I love you, my sweetheart” from above.
- Allow wife to get really comfortable and start drifting off into the sleep of angels (yes, of course I am one – I do nothing wrong).
- As the calming blanket of sleep begins to envelop wife, bounce (I have now realized men have absolutely no ability to simple step) out of bed, declaring your need for a sandwich. Well of course you need a sandwich, after all, you only had a full dinner and pudding. How can a grown man be expected to survive on that!
- Do not, under any circumstances, make a soft sandwich. It is imperative, apparently, to make a sandwich containing as much crunchy material as you can muster. In last nights’ case, this included cucumber, red/yellow/green peppers and, of course, some onion (the latter being designed to ensure that you can also smell the sandwich).
- Throw yourself back into bed, preferably with enough momentum to bounce your wife right off the other side. Settle in gleefully and munch, crunch and chomp your way through your delightful midnight snack, all the while protesting to a now grumbling wife that “but it’s only a sandwich”! Sound as much life a small, deprived child whilst saying this.
- Having now sufficiently ensured that sleep will evade your wife, finish the sandwich and immediately, without a seconds breath in between, fall into a deep and peaceful slumber, accompanied by the symphonic notes of snoring (just in case your wife might be able to pretend you are now also, unable to sleep).
Is this normal? Am I simply too used to the selfishness of single life?
And for anyone still insisting that this has nothing to do with animals – the cats slept on the bed, unmoved or troubled, throughout the entire episode.
Oh to be a cat!