BED TIME

The one thing I have learnt whilst being in a relationship (if you call Charlie constantly annoying the crap out of me, and me wanting to throttle him all the time a relationship), is what ‘going to bed’ actually means.

Now, get your mind out of the gutter, you deviants. 

I don’t mean special-cuddles-going-to-bed.  I mean physically going to bed at the end of the day to sleep.

Our bed-time routines are so strikingly different, that it’s astonishing, and I got to wondering if I was alone… do other husbands do this?  Do other wives do this?  Is it just me?

So, I thought I would share my observations with you.

BED TIME FOR CHARLIE

‘I’m going to bed love.’ He declares, as our DVD finishes.  He stands up, stretches, farts, giggles, gives me a kiss, and off he goes.

He strolls into the ensuite, goes to the bathroom for twenty fucken minutes (what the fuck he does in there, I don’t know), brushes his teeth, turns off the lights and heads into the bedroom.

He changes into his pyjamas, dumping his clothes at the end of the bed, climbs into bed, farts loudly, giggles, and is asleep within twenty seconds.

BED TIME FOR LEE

‘I’ll join you shortly.’ I smile, as I watch him head up the hallway.

I take out the DVD, place it in it’s cover, and replace it on the shelf.  I turn the TV and all it’s associated crap off at the power point, kill the lights, and stroll into the kitchen.

I unload the dish washer, reload it, and put all the clean stuff away.  I quickly wipe down the benches again, check that everything is neat and tidy, turn off the power points that we’re not using, and head into the laundry.

I unload the dryer, fold all of the items onto the bench (deciding that I’ll put them away tomorrow), and have an in-depth conversation about the DVD I just watched with Forrest the cat, who is sitting on the bench watching.

She waits very patiently as I stack the warm towels and clothes, and as I throw an old towel over the top of them, she climbs onto the warm pile, and settles herself in for the night. 

At least she waited until I covered the new clothes.  Bless.

I re-load the dryer, and set the timer to go off after midnight (we have a problem with the timer on the washing machine, so we have to use one of those automated timers that hold the power until the right time clicks over, and off she goes).  I reload the washing machine, and set that off.  I flick the lights, and head off to the study.

I do a quick check of emails and Facebook, commenting on a few things, before shutting down the computer and heading back to the kitchen.

I kill the lights in there, and head off to the bedroom.  Charlie is in bed, snoring, and I wander into the ensuite.  I brush my teeth and go through my nightly beauty routine (cleanse, tone and moisturise!).  I pee, flush, and wash my hands; thinking that doesn’t take twenty-fucking-minutes, and head into the bedroom.

I grab my empty water bottle, return to the ensuite to fill it up, and return to the bedroom again.  I top up my cpap machine with water, and set up the mask.

I wander into the walk-in-robe, select my clothes I’m wearing to gym tomorrow, and curse myself for forgetting my bathers.

Hurry back down to the other end of the fucking house to get my bathers and towel, and return to the bedroom.  I pack my bathers and towel into my gym bag, place the clothes I’m wearing tomorrow on top of it, and push it under the bed a little so I don’t trip over it in the night.

I see Charlie’s clothes at the foot of the bed, where I will trip over them, and kick them as far under the bed as I possibly can.  Teach you to leave them in the middle of the floor.

I strip off (no jimmies for me!), put my mask on, switch the cpap into life, and clamber into bed.

My body sinks into the mattress, and I remember my alarm.  I sit up, change the time, and settle back down again next to my husband, who’s been asleep for about ten minutes now I’d guess.

Fucker.

I lay there for fuck knows how long running through the things I have to do tomorrow, ranging from gym, swimming, groceries, vacuuming, mopping, ironing, washing and gardening, before I start to drift away.

Only to be woken with a start as Charlie farts loudly, and laughs in his sleep.

Finally, I drift away, only to be woken through the night by my insistent bladder.

Yep; going to bed is exactly the same thing for Charlie and I.

Peace out.