Midnight Monsters

I just finished reading the comments from the last post and now I have SO many new songs to download and others that I was reminded I loved too! Yay. What fun.
So this morning I am feeling forced to write about how I was duped into marrying a snorer.
My mother snored like something from another planet. I’m talking-when I was in my bed, in the room at the OPPOSITE END OF THE HALL(!) from her, I could hear her. Yes, that loud. She started the second her head hit the pillow (an impressive feat) and kept the same cadence and volume up through the night with only the occasional break when she woke her damn self up with the noise. This also provided a sound I won’t describe here because quite frankly, I’m still traumatized by it. There were times we shared a hotel room that scarred me. One particular trip to California kept me sleepless for 9 days. It was awful. I might have even tried to sleep in a bathtub and under a bed. Maybe even thrown pillows at the poor woman. Maybe. Don’t judge me unless you have heard the thundering noise and ever tried to sleep through it yourself.
We teased her mercilessly about it, and of course never really blamed her for it like it was a fault. But secretly, in the middle of those sleepless nights, I would curse her and pledge to myself never to marry a snorer. This was such a powerful pledge that there were potential suitors in my life who didn’t work out because I learned they snored. Seriously. I might have snoring PTSD. It’s that bad.
Fast forward to present day when I am married to a man I thought was a non-snorer. Oh sure, after a few beers he has the deep breathing that all good drinkers get but nothing that keeps me awake and he can always be given a gentle shove that rolls him right over and quiets him down again. At least he always used to be able.
Now it seems not only does he snore, but he becomes the absolute photo negative of his conscious self. He snores…loud. He grinds his teeth so loudly some nights that I am surprised that he still has them come morning. And here’s the kicker, he steals every single cover and hogs the bed like he is pretty sure no one else is in it. It’s crazy. This man who you have all heard me wax romantic about turns into a mean, snoring beast at night. He also starts in the second he closes his eyes. (Again, as someone who has trouble falling asleep, I find this impressive but also off-putting if said eyes close mid-conversation. Oh yeah, that’s happened.)
I can write about it because he knows. Remember, I have some nighttime personality shifts too thus I am convinced at 2 am. that he is doing all of this on purpose because he hates me. Oh, I’ve accused him of as much. Don’t you worry.
What happens to us in the middle of the night? When our first daughter was born we made a rule that anything said to each other after midnight didn’t count. It saved our marriage. We are crazy people. He is a mean, selfish snoring cover stealer and I am an irrational, raving lunatic who has been known to throw the occasional kidney punch to cease the noise. It’s not pretty folks.
I blame the snoring.
Somehow it’s always the mother’s fault.