What did those kids do to that nice lady?

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

Shhh.....

Last night, as I was drifting off to a lovely sleep, my phone made the tiniest little sound and jolted me awake from dreams that were sure to include me and Ben Affleck.    Although only moments before I was practically asleep, my body decided that I was now to be Awake.  For a Long Time.  Eventually Husband came rolling around to bed as he likes to stay up later than me and watch The Real Housewives and eat bon bons.  As I listened to him drift off to sleep, I couldn’t help but hate him for just a minute.  After all, why should he get to sleep when I just get to lie here and listen to him sleep?  And good Lord, why is he breathing so loudly?  He wasn’t snoring; not yet.  First is the heavy, open mouth breathing.  Then comes the quiet, rolling snore, as if to say: I’m about to snore louder, but I want to give you a gentle reminder of HOW MUCH YOU HATE IT first.  To be fair, last night he never broke out in the Great Snore.  Great Snore’s are reserved for Great Nights of Drinking.  But this got me to thinking-why is it I can breath so quietly while he seems only to breath so loudly?  Why is it that I can do so many things quietly that Other People in my house seem to do only at an unnecessary volume?   Although I tried to count sheep, I instead began composing this list in my head:
Things Only I Seem to Do Quietly:

Breath.
Chew.
Burp.
Open doors at 1 am when coming home from “a couple beers at the club.” 
Make midnight snack after “couple beers at the club.”
Sleep.
Crunch ice.
Wake up.
Sneeze.
Yawn.
Announce intentions to poop.  (Actually, I do this silently, not even quietly.)
Fart.  (Also something I try to do silently, or at least not in front of Others.)
Close doors. (Unless, for dramatic effect, it needs to be slammed.  I’m only human.)
Now, I’m not claiming to be perfect; I see Husband writing in his diary about some of the unfortunate habits I may have.  Fear of the telephone.  Inability to retain knowledge regarding technology.  Lack of desire to make decision about which restaurant to eat at.  But while all these things may annoy Husband, even he would have to admit that I do them quietly.  Very very quietly.  

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