When Morning Meets Not Morning

Oh man. He whistles, all happy like, as he makes the coffee. He smiles. He says nice things. He comments on the weather. All within the first five minutes of opening his eyes.

In the meantime, I have pulled the blanket over my head and rolled over, hoping to get another 3 minutes of sleep. I smile at him with my eyes closed. When he says nice things, I grunt. (I try to make them sound nice). When he comments on the weather, I "uhm." I stumble to the shower with my eyes closed and no lights, hoping to down a drink of coffee before I get in.

Then there are the weekends. Blissful. I can sleep as long as I want. Unless he decides it is time for me to get up. Or he loads the dishwasher. Or he unloads the dishwasher. (Yes, I am very thankful he will even do these things, but that isn't the point right now.)

So I lay in bed waking up. If I smell coffee, I know I am okay to get up. I just might make it.

We meet at the kitchen table, to look outside, watch the birds, drink coffee. And then it starts.

Usually it starts with his ring on the coffee cup. Sometimes it's his fingers on the table. Sometimes it is the countertop. Sometimes it's his hand on the windowsill.

I have dubbed him, "The Morning Tapper." Tap tap tap tap tapttap tap tap." It used to drive me nuts. Till one morning I exploded, nicely. "Could you please stop doing that?"

We can joke about it now, but it still continues. Now all I have to say is, "Hey, morning tapper," thankfully, cause that is about all I can manage to get out.

Around 6pm, the whole scenario changes. I wake up, come alive, and am raring to go. He, on the other hand, is starting to wane. I guess I should start tapping then. But I won't because he IS the coffee maker! :)

How Does It Happen?

How on earth, with two people, does a bathroom closet get so, well, disheveled???

I am sure I am to blame, and I say two people but the only thing he does is get a bath towel out of it. Unless he is bleeding because of an accident and then he has to root and destroy everything looking for a large enough bandaid and some type of antiseptic. Which gets me to thinking.

This post was intended to be about cleaning out the closet (which I did yesterday) but let's go back to the bleeding because of an accident thing.

Time number 1 - about a week before our wedding he went out for a bachelor party. When he returned I was already asleep but he came in and sat on the bed and the first words out of his mouth were, "Now don't freak out." It must have been about 3am. So, of course, I start to freak out even though it is dark, asking what is wrong.

It seems he had been digging in his truck toolbox getting a jacket or something equally less important, and the lid had fallen, right onto his nose. It was gashed and bloody, and it looked like the skin had been scraped off the bridge. After that the only thing I remember thinking was how awful he would look in our wedding pictures! Ahh, true love. :) Needless to say, he got the truck toolbox out and hasn't used it since.

Time number 2 - It was early in the spring and we had been talking about removing some limbs from a tree (I am sure you see where this is headed.) He got up early, which for him is about 4:30 (what a nut) and went outside with his brand new sharp shiny handsaw specifically designed to cut limbs. He climbed the ladder as high as it would go and proceeded to climb the tree, tying himself off. He couldn't get the right angle for the limb. Well, for the tree limb. Anyway, it ended up the saw came down onto his opposite forearm and cut him on that vein that runs on the top. Now keep in mind, I am sleeping soundly, unaware he had even planned to do this.

So now he is in a pickle. He is bleeding profusely and worried he won't even make it down the ladder. He got down, took his shirt off to cover it, ran to the back deck door, and then realized it was locked - he hadn't gone out that door.

As he bounded down the deck stairs, he broke through the second to last step. His speed and bounding cracked it and he fell through and scraped his shin up really bad. He ran to the basement door and up the stairs to the bedroom. He walks in and says, "Baby, I think I need your help," loud enough to wake me.

What a way to get woken up. He's got blood all over and he's about greenish white.

I have to say, honestly, he is really not prone to accidents like I am. He is very careful and thoughtful. But accidents happen to even the best of us.