So there I was, attempting to get a decent night's sleep with the help of my good friend, Prince Nyquil, after catching the Creeping Crud from my youngest child. Said child had been taking Albuterol nebulizer treatments every four hours for the past 2 days, so he doesn't care if he sleeps or not. Or if I do. He gets the treatment, bounces off the walls like a chihuaha on meth for 3 hours and 48 minutes, and then falls asleep just in time to be awakened for the next treatment. Since I had slept about 12 minutes the night before, I let him sleep through one treatment. What could it hurt, right?

Meantime, my adorable husband wishes to do something to make me happy. If he had asked me what would have made me happy, I would have asked him to let me go to a hotel for the night while HE took care of Young Master Bronchitis for a change...but he did it The Man Way. He bought me something pretty and sparkly and expensive, because we all know that this is What a Woman Wants, right?

So he is going for the Diamonds are Forever commerical. You know the one...

"How can I tell you that I love you..." being warbled in the background by a breathy female voice while Husband places Lovely Diamond Necklace lightly on Wife's throat, feigning sleep until she rolls over, full makeup and every hair in place, to smile sweetly in surprise and lay some loving on him.

Of course, at this point, I'm dead asleep and have no idea what is going on around me.

My Nyquil induced stupor is broken by sudden surprising dreams of castenet-clacking harem girls, and I awaken to find my daughter on the computer at 12:45AM, causing said dream by the tappety-tappety of keyboard keys while she battles a Lupe Garou on Neopets.

I stumble from the bed, wobbling half-asleep toward the master bathroom, as she announces without even turning away from the screen, "Mama, you snore."

"I have a cold. I can't breathe." I retort, not believing my own con but hoping she might.

After taking care of business, I return to bed and pull the covers up, hoping to get just a little more sleep before Short Man wakes up for his next breathing treatment.

My Handsome Groom speaks...

"Aren't you gonna kiss me?"

"I'm not going to kiss you with your dragon breath. Brush your teeth first and we'll talk about it."

"But isn't that what SHE does in that commercial when she wakes up with a diamond necklace laid on her throat?" He asks meekly.

"Yeah, well, give me a diamond necklace and you'll get a kiss."

He falls silent for a moment, then mumbles "Where did it go?"

I am suddenly fully awake.

We both spring from the bed and spend the next 20 minutes searching in, around, and under the bed until we find the necklace.

Then he got his kiss. And probably the Creeping Crud.

My life is never like the commercial. Unless you count the one where the dog scoots his behind across the carpet and Mom has to spend $200 bucks to have the carpet cleaners come so the kids can lay on the floor again.

Sigh.

Time for more Nyquil.

Learn more about this author, Sharon Cheairs.
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