A frank discussion which resulted in absolutely nothing

The other night I was sitting on my end of the comfy couch trying to have a frank discussion with my husband about his mother effing snoring.

Incidentally, don't you think "frank" is a funny word to use in a sentence like that?  I do.  That's why I used it.

So anyway the conversation went something like this:

Me: "We're about to have a frank discussion about the mother fucking snoring situation."

Him, distractedly and not the least bit scared: "Can we do it after Alaskan Frontier?"

Me: "NO! It's getting close to the time when we go up to bed and every single night you've been snoring in my face!"

Him, turning towards me: "You're really eating that cheese aggressively."

Me: "Well! Aren't you sick of me stabbing your calf with my dagger-like sharp toenail? Getting poked in the eyeball? A knee in the back? A miscellaneous hair pull?"

Him: "Is that why I have so many unexplained bruises on the back of my leg? I was wondering about that."

Me: "I'd like to think I've been very kind about your illness so far, but its literally been since THANKSGIVING! It's time to take your balls off the mantle and stop milking this ::air quote:: "asthma" condition you are plagued with, ALEX. Some people need to sleep."

Him: "You called me Alex.  I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest you are a little angry."

Me: "You knew that was one of my top five deal breakers when we got married!"

Him, calmly, as usual: "But I cant help it. It's out of my control." 

Me: "Just because you have ::air quotes again:: "shitty lungs" doesn't mean I should suffer every night for all of the god damn live long day!"

Him: Silently glancing between me and Alaskan Frontier. Clearly not taking me seriously.

Me: "Well I'm asking the painter to paint your brand new bedroom a more masculine color."

Him: "That's not very nice. It's kind of chilly in there with nobody to snuggle."

Me: "Well, pull your shit together ALEX, or you're OUT."

Him, turning back towards Alaskan Frontier: "Hey do you want a devil dog?"

Me: "Does a bear poop?"

Him, getting up: "You know it."

And then we ate a Devil Dog and went to bed. And he snored in my face til 3:00 am.

I couldn't possibly have quit coffee today of all days

Have you ever wanted to go all blanket party on someone?  Even though what they are doing to bother you isn't really their fault?

Yeah, well that was me feeling blanket party-ish this morning at 2 a freaking clock in the morning.  And the unsuspecting victim was Alex. 

This is an example of the way most of my night went.

So the thing is, Alex got strep throat.  He is hardly ever sick, and if he is, he sucks it up and goes about his business.  Because he is very important.  And his firm might fall apart around all of us if he took a sick day.  He has only taken a sick day three times in the 15-ish years that we have been married.  I am not exaggerating.  And this past Monday was the third time.

So anyway, poor guy had a raging fever.  The last time he had strep was when he had to take the bar exam, about 9 years ago.  I was so excited he had strep and was so sick because I was positive he was going to fail the bar and then I thought he would have the perfect excuse for failing.  Not that I don't believe in him or anything, but he NEVER freaking studied.  He is such a procrastinator.  Even the Magic 8 ball was wishy-washy on whether he would pass or not.  It would not give us a straight answer!  Damn Magic 8 ball.  I think he finally studied a little bit the last week before the exam because the wishy-washy-ness of the Magic 8 Ball freaked him out.  Anyway, he passed, so we never had to use the "I had a raging fever and I was dying while the strep germs shoved what felt like shards of broken glass down my throat" excuse.  He's very smart. 

So he got up Monday morning and I took one look at him and was like, "I am making an appointment for you to go see Dr. L." 

And he was all like, (insert dramatic gravelly voice) "I have to go to work.  I just took the week off.  The firm will fall apart if I don't come in today."  OK.  Actually, I added the last sentence, but that's what he was thinking.  I am positive.

So I was all like,  "I'm making the appointment.  I will make it as early as I can but I think you are a dumbass if you go to work."

I was very sympathetic.  Because I am all kind like that.

So I made the appointment.  And he took a shower with his fever.  And he got his suit and tie on with his fever.  And he left.  With his fever.  He was thinking that he would just go to the Doctor's office, take the test, get a prescription and then head up to work with his fever.  To suffer at his desk for the next 12 hours, all the while infecting everyone else at the firm with his streppy germs.  He felt this was completely fine.

So I was sitting in my red chair drinking a cup of coffee and catching up on my blog roll exactly one hour after he left, and I see his car pull in the driveway.

So I jumped up and started vacuuming, obviously.  I don't want it to look like I sit on my ass perusing the Internet all day, you know?  And then he came in with a sad face and told me he got kicked out of work for the day.  Because of the positive strep test.

So I had to hold back a giggle and get him up to bed.  Poor guy did not come down for like 24 full hours.  He really was so sick.  At one point he looked helplessly at me and said, "You were right, I never could have made it through work all day like this."  And I stifled the urge to say I told you so, and sympathetically pet his head.

He's really lucky to have me.

So anyway, back to the blanket party.  Alex went to work yesterday because there was no way possible he would take two days off in a row.  And when he got home at 8ish last night, he was pretty much wiped out.  Gee.  I wonder why.  And so he basically ate a bowl of the amazing homemade chicken noodle soup that I threw together for him (did I mention how lucky he is?), and went upstairs to bed. 

This is not exactly indicative of my night.  But only because I don't wear rollers and Alex was not smiling while he snored.  And also, that is not my side of the bed.

Where he proceeded to snore all night long.  All. Night. Long.

He isn't a snorer. Unless he is tanked, but that is pretty rare.  If he was a snorer I would never have married him.  I am dead serious.  I need my sleep.  I don't require much sleep, but I need something.  Snoring is my worst offense.  It drives me absolutely crazy.  And even though I may have been accused of possibly snoring a snitch every so often, I truly can't handle it in someone else.  It may not exactly be fair, but it is what it is.  I make no apologies.

So naturally, I did not throw a blanket over his sick head and pummel the crap out of him.  I calmly took my dumb temporary replacement pillow* and went into the guest room.  And proceeded to have the worst night's sleep ever.  First, there was no fan blowing cold air on me in that dumb room.  Second, there was no warm leg to put my cold feet on, and third, I hate that dumb bed.  The headboard bonks against the wall every time you move so it's annoying all night long.  And fourth, I hate my dumb temporary replacement pillow.

Do you think that if I made this into a sign and hung it over my bed, it would go with the decor?

So that is exactly why I couldn't possibly quit coffee this morning.


*I am currently using a temporary replacement pillow.  It's the saddest thing ever, but I accidentally left my best most favorite comfy pillow at a hotel in North Carolina.  It took all of my strength not to turn around and go get it.  I am in mourning.  It's very hard to get the perfect pillow. :(

I am linking the UNUSUALLY lengthy and cranky rant intended for my poor, sick UNSUSPECTING husband at Jenny Matlock's Alphabe-Thursday.  Can you guess what letter we are on?