If you ever read anything I posted on More Than Useless back when it was more than a defunct website, then you’re all too familiar with the midnight adventures that occur in our house.
The rest of you may be in for it.
So there I was, Saturday night, asleep. Full on REM sleep. Out of nowhere, I’m shaken awake – Meghan, with a firm grip on my right shoulder, has rolled over and thrown her other arm across my chest to grab my left shoulder and is violently shaking me.
Meghan: [near shouting] Come on – let’s go..!
Tom: [wide awake, irritated, prepared to punch] What?! Meghan [shakes loose] what are you talking about!?
Meghan: [releases death grip, sighs] Man – you are heavy!
Tom: [rolls over]
Meghan: [maniacal laughter ]
…then there was silence. Utter silence.
Laying on my side, heart racing, and totally irritated, Meghan has dropped completely back into whatever dream she was having and I’m left wide awake against my will.
Two years ago, I would’ve attempted to decipher what she was dreaming about or what prompted such a ridiculous outburst. But we’ve been married long enough and I’ve experienced more torture in the middle of the night than any spouse should ever have to endure to know better than to bother.
This isn’t the last time I’m gonna have something to share about this.