I had it all wrong

Every morning I wake up in fear. I can’t move or else I’ll make noise. If I make noise then the end is near; the end of peace and stillness, as I know it. I’m overcome by the urgent need to stretch. Very slowly, I slip my legs through the sheets. Noiselessly, my muscles are satisfied. Perhaps, if I turn over he’ll think I’m still sleeping. Boldly, I shift my body to a more comfortable position. I listen to hear if I’ve disturbed the sleeping giant.



Silence.


I breathe out a sigh of relief. Snuggling with my pillow, I relax and attempt to go back to sleep.


I hear a rustle in the living room.


Oh no! I’ve woken him! “Please, please don’t come in the room. Just go get a drink. You’re thirsty, don’t you know that?” I mentally plead with him.


Clu-clunk. Something heavy hits the floor. I hear a stifled yawn, followed by slow and steady steps. I squeeze my eyes shut as he enters the room. There is a slight pause. Then the steps continue pass my side of the bed. He’s headed to my husband’s side of the bed. I’m safe.


I breathe out a sigh of relief. The footsteps stop. Oh shoot! He’s suspicious. Don’t move girl! Don’t move. Sleeping people breathe, right?


The steps continue and I’m still safe.


My husband is laying next to me, pretending to be asleep too. He must’ve just woken up moments before. He knows better than to move a muscle. His face is washed with hot breath. He’s a Marine. He knows how to stay strong in the face of the enemy. He remains motionless.


A pathetic whimper fills the room. My husband can feel eyes staring at him. Another whimper is released. My husband and I are stone still. A wet tongue rolls over his face but to no avail. Left with no other choice, the monster must make one last effort to get our attention. The next thing we know, our 50 lbs oversized puppy jumps into bed with us. He jumps all over us, crushing any remaining dreams of sleeping.


“WAKE UP!! It’s time to play with me! Did you miss me? I missed you! I also missed my bone. Just in case you missed it too, I brought it with me.” This is followed by shoving a dog bone in our faces. He is a whirlwind of motion: jumping from one end of the bed to the other. There’s a paw in your back, now on your face, and now the dog just fell on you. You’re completely pinned under this bundle of joy. It’s the worst way to wake up. He’s not a cute little guy anymore. And he NEVER lets us sleep until our alarm clock goes off.

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