by Tammie (Mon Oct 26, 2009)
I don't normally condone murder, but sometimes I
truly envision stabbing my husband in the head. Maybe just with a rubber
knife, but even that would feel so good. So what is it that drives me to
vengeful extremes? Has my husband cheated on me? No, that would definitely
require a stainless steel 12-incher. Did he beat the dog? No, he's
kind to our mutt. It all comes down to what happens in the bedroom after dark.
‘He forces you into strange sexual acts?' you may
gasp. I wish.
I've come to believe that the reason bedrooms are
typically quite far from the kitchen is to keep wives away from the cutlery
drawer in the wee hours. What am I talking about? Sleep, or rather, my
lack thereof. See if this rings true - I know I can't be the only one out
there...
I'm exhausted. I've had a long day of work,
exercise, caring for the house, cooking, and attempting to guard my vegetable
garden from slugs. I desperately want to sleep. I make this clear to my
husband. We lay down to bed and all of a sudden he decides it's time to
download his day. He's had plenty of time to do this before lights out, so
why he chooses to chat just as I'm ready to conk out I have no idea. He's not
tired at all, he'll tell me, as he goes on again about his latest project in
the garage.
I just want to sleep, but now I'm keyed up
listening and responding to him. Then, mid-sentence - and this is when I wish I
had the knife - he's off to dreamland. In the middle of the bloody
sentence!
So here I am awake, trying to get comfortable as he
takes over the whole bed. Then finally I find it - the comfy spot. I'm
ready to doze. And just as I'm ready to nod off - get me the freakin'
knife - it comes.
The Buzzsaw. The Log Sawing. The
window-rattling-probably-causing-tsunamis-in-the- Philippines snoring.
And I'm wide-awake again. I try nudging him.
Nope. I try pushing him over to his side. Instead he rolls over to
face me and I'm getting snore-breath blown in my face. I try pinching his
nose shut (possibly giving in a little to my murderous rage at this
point). Ah, silence...for all of twenty seconds after I let go. Then he
starts in again even louder as if making up for the snoring he didn't get to do
while I closed off his nasal passages.
And here's where the true violence starts. I
can't help it, I'm nearly deranged with exhaustion, any court would find in my
favour - especially if there was a female judge. I hit him in the
head. Not hard, but a pretty good slap upside the noggin
nonetheless. He grunts awake, ‘What?'
‘Stop snoring!'
‘Oh, okay,' and just like that he's instantly back
to sleep. At least he finished his sentence this time. And within a
minute, just after I have rediscovered the comfy spot, the logs start sawing
again.
Then finally, sometime long after I had wanted to go
to sleep, the snoring stops. The room is silent. Ahh, peace and I didn't
have to break out the Ginsu set. Sigh.
Oh hell, I have to pee.
