So, for the last 3 nights, this has been my sleeping quarters:
TheManTheMyth is still a snotty turdy head and it is impossible to sleep in the same bed while he's wheezing, snoring, gurgling, coughing. So I've been sleeping on the sofa. Which I hate. The sofa, I mean. And sleeping on it. Because I hate it. And it's uncomfortable. Actually, I haven't exactly been SLEEPING; more like dozing because it's so uncomfortable, especially with a dog who insists on spooning even though there's not enough room.
Thing 2 graciously offered to let me sleep with her but I had to decline because she has a loft bed that is a mere 12" from the ceiling and there's no way I can sleep up there without smacking the ceiling every time I turned over and also because her room is like a tomb. She keeps it as dark as possible and refuses to allow fresh air to penetrate the darkness so it's dark, stuffy and smells of her hockey gear. I'd rather sleep on the concrete patio than sleep in her room. But thanks for the offer!
If I was a mean, selfish type of wife, I'd insist that Typhoid Mary sleep on the sofa and let me and Gracie Lou have the snuggle bed but being the kind, considerate wife that I am, I can make do on the Sofa From Hell. And remind him of my considerate thoughtfulness on a regular basis.
Ok, so yesterday was the Baja 1000 offroad race, which is a HUGE race, and several of our racing friends were, uh, racing in the motorcycle division. We spent most of yesterday glued to the internet looking for updates on our racing friends. Well last night, I had a dream that we were down there in Baja and in my dream, a kid named Justin ImHof, who was making his Baja debut on the Honda B Team, came up and was making gestures to his arm and everyone just stood there going, "Huh?" and he never said a word, just kept pointing to his arm. When nobody did anything, he sadly rode away. And in my dream, someone said, "What was that all about?" and I was all, "Duh, he was trying to tell us he broke his arm!"
Remember that.
As soon as I woke up this morning, I ran to the computer to get an update on the race and get this: the first thing I read was that Justin had crashed hard, was knocked unconscious and had also BROKE HIS ARM. Hand to God. Are you getting goosebumps because I sure as heck did.
Anyway, Justin was badly injured and is on his way home to the USA on a chartered plane. He's a really, really good kid, only 17 years old and a heckuva racer and if you have a minute, say a little prayer for him and his family.
And be in awe at my psychic powers. I know I am.
TheManTheMyth is sick. He has one of those head colds where he wheezes, coughs, honks because his nose is stuffed up, croaks like a frog and is just a real attractive guy right now and an absolute joy to be around, let me tell you.
Last night, I offered him some coughing, sneezing, aching, stuffy nose, sore throat so you can rest medicine, which was not so much so HE could rest but so that *I* could rest because I knew it was going to be a long night but did he accept my loving, caring offer? No. He said he was fine with just his nasal spray.
So guess who got some rest and who Did Not? That's right. One of us slept the blissful sleep of the damned while the other listened to the snores, the coughs, the wheezing, the raspy, wet breathing until she was ready to use the Special Pillow to Shut. Him. Up.
The breaking point came when he was gurgling/snoring so bad that I reached over to see if he was on his back and if so, to push him over onto his side. Unfortunately, he WAS on his side and worse, he was awake. And not happy about me trying to roll him over.
Needless to say, one of us spent the rest of the night on our uncomfortable needs-to-be-replaced-if-we-could-only-afford-it sofa with the dog while the other had the king-size bed all to himself.
TheManTheMyth gets sick about once a year and it seems to be That Time of year for him. And when he's sick, he's about as pleasant to be around as a wolverine and I'm not talking about the kind from the University of Michigan. He's crabby and grumpy and wants to be left alone and I can forget about getting a good night's sleep.
It could be worse, though. He could become a two year old and demand juice with bendy straws and ice cream and want to be coddled and pampered and demand to control the TV.
As much as I like retaining control of the TV, I hate sleeping on the sofa so I think I'm going to insist he take some knock-you-out cold medicine tonight so that both of us can get a good night's sleep.
And if he won't take it, I will.
As an unashamed Royal Watcher, of course I'm going to blog about the engagement announcement of Prince William and Kate Middleton. It took 8 years of dating, break ups and and reconcilliations but Kate held out and she got her man. And I think Wills made a very good choice. Kate may not be a royal or even from the nobility but look how well THAT worked out when Prince Charles picked Lady Diana Spencer. Diana was an uneducated, emotionally fragile teenager when she was picked for her breeding and virginity to be the Royal Bride and received little or no support from the in-laws or her husband who was in love with someone else and had no patience for Diana's issues, of which there were many. Diana had fabulous fashion sense, a wonderful ability to connect with people, compassion for the sick, the poor and the downtrodden and did her best to raise her sons in as normal a fashion as possible. And she was a mess who wasn't quite the victim she like to portray herself as, God rest her soul.
Unlike Diana, Kate knows what she's getting into and what will be expected of her. It helps that she shares the same interests as Williams as well as Charles and it also helps that the Family likes her.
So, you Go, Kate Middleton! Well done, you!
And SPEAKING of Princesses, My Little Princess, the one, the only Kaylyn, aka, "Thing 2" aka "Little Mama" aka "Her" finally got her braces off yesterday and she looks so beautiful! Or as she puts it, "Duh. I'm freakin' GORGEOUS!" because who suffers from Princess Diana self-esteem issues? Not Kaylyn. So behold, the beauty of Her:
Look at that smile! Next step is getting her some new glasses and talking her into getting rid of that ghastly hoodie that she usually wears with the hood up so that she looks like Little Red Riding Hood meets the KKK. And it flattens down her beautiful hair. She is SO not joining the ranks of Princess Diana and the soon-to-be Princess William of Wales in the Fashion Hall of Fame.
