Look, a chunk of kidney.

The following occurred at approximately 1:30 a.m. in my bedroom last week.

(Dad, the story is not pervy, so you can read it.)

Let me set the scene.

The night is still.  I’m awakened by the sudden, intermittent chirp of the smoke detector informing us that the battery needs to be replaced.  I roll over and look at Virginia Slims Man to see if he’s also awake.  Of course, he is not.  I tap him gently.  He doesn’t move, so I punch him in the arm.

Me:  Honey, the smoke detector is chirping.

VSM: Huh?

Smoke Detector: Chirp.

Me: The smoke detector.  It’s chirping.

VSM: Oh.  (Closes his eyes and starts snoring instantly.  Not kidding.  It’s a sight to behold.)

Me: (Kick him in the shin.) Hon, it’s still chirping.

VSM: (Annoyed.) What do you want me to do about it?

Me:  I thought that was obvious.  I want you to make it stop chirping.

Smoke Detector:  Chirp.

VSM: (Sighs.  Crawls out of bed and starts to walk towards the detector.  He then turns around, walks back to the bed and attempts to climb in.  I do not know at this point if he thinks he’s miraculously fixed the detector just by approaching it or, more likely, if he’s completely forgotten why I asked him to get out of bed in the first place.)

Me: You do realize that you haven’t actually done anything and it’s going to chirp again in about 3 seconds?

VSM:  Huh?

Smoke Detector: Chirp.

Me: See?  Still chirping.

VSM: What do you want me to do?

Me:  Have we not covered this?  I want you to make it stop.

VSM: How?

Me: How does one normally make a smoke detector stop chirping?  However that is normally done, that is what I want you to do.

Smoke Detector: Chirp

VSM:  (Sighs.  Gets out of bed.  Goes into the garage and gets the ladder.  Climbs the ladder and yanks the smoke detector off the wall.  Rips the battery out of the detector.)

Smoke Detector:  Chiiiiirrrrrp.

VSM: (Takes ladder back out to the garage.  Comes back into bed.)

Me:  Thank you.  Were you seriously going to try to sleep with the smoke detector chirping all night long?

VSM: Yeah.

Me:  Men, you’re all idiots.

Now, I really don’t think my husband is an idiot.  I do, however, find it idiotic to attempt to sleep with a smoke detector chirping all night long.

My husband’s ability to sleep through noises is actually legendary.  He has slept through alarms, illnesses and physical assault by me to stop his snoring.  And he sleeps so deeply that he is often disoriented and confused if he’s woken up in the middle of the night.  If he falls asleep with the TV on, I’ll wake him up to tell him to turn it off and then I’ll watch him as he tries to accomplish this by repeatedly pointing his cell phone at the TV.  And even though he appears to be awake, he has absolutely no idea why he can’t turn the TV off.  I’ve also watched him try to answer the remote when the phone rings. (Honestly, it’s kind of entertaining.)

I’m pretty sure that an intruder could break into our house while blowing on a whistle and popping bubble wrap and kidnap me from our bedroom and my husband wouldn’t have a clue until the next morning.

In spite of all this, I was still amazed that last night when The Beast was in bed with us because he’s sick with a raging case of Bubonic Plague and was coughing so violently that I was just waiting for his gall bladder to come flying out of his mouth, my husband fell asleep.  (I’m pretty sure expelled gall bladders was one of the earlier symptoms of the plague.)

I really can’t explain how violent and constant The Beast’s cough was.  It was easily the worst cough he’s ever had in his life and he was miserable and tired and inconsolable.

So there we were, the three of us in bed together.  For hours and hours.

I lay quietly on my back, trying to move as little as possible so as not to disrupt The Beast during those few fleeting seconds of calm that came before another coughing spell would start up again.  The Beast snuggled up in the crook of my arm and hacked violently in my face with every breath.

And then there was my husband, snoring the contented sleep of the narcoleptic.  Now, when I say he’s narcoleptic, I’m really not exaggerating.  He can go from awake and talking to snoring within seconds.  He’s actually fallen asleep mid-conversation before, and that’s when he’s been the one talking.

But how the hell do you fall asleep when your child is spewing mucousy Typhoid phlegm and spleen chunks all over your bed?

Every time The Beast’s cough would calm a bit and I’d say a prayer that he’d fall asleep, my husband would choose that moment to snore louder and disturb The Beast all over again.  (I believe snoring is a choice and that he does it just to irritate me.)

I kept kicking my husband, thinking he’d roll over so that he wouldn’t be snoring in The Beast’s face, but he would just sit up a little bit and look at me like I was nuts for kicking him.  Yes, in spite of the darkness in the room, I could see the look on his face because my eyes were perfectly adjusted to the dark room because I had NEVER BEEN ASLEEP!  He, however, had been sleeping quite happily for over an hour and could not see that I was actually trying to kill him with my evil eye.  If ever there were a time to have a red glow to coincide with your evil eye it’s when you’re trying to destroy your husband in the darkness of night.

How does my husband tune out the sound of his son’s tuberculosis sputum storm and fall asleep?  Is he actually tuning it out, assuming that I’ll worry enough for the both of us, or is he just not able to fight his narcolepsy?  I’ll probably never know.

Then this morning we had this conversation:

Me: Last night was terrible.

VSM:  I know.  You kept kicking me.

Me:  Do you remember why I kept kicking you?

VSM:  No.

Me:  You were snoring right in The Beast’s face.  Every time he’d calm down enough to go to sleep, you’d wake him up all over again, so I was trying to get you to roll over and face the other way.

VSM:  Yeah, I think I rolled over a couple times and then I’d just roll back.

Me:  No, you didn’t roll over.  You were asleep.  Want to know how I know?  I WAS AWAKE!!

VSM: Huh.

Me:  Men, you’re all idiots.


22 thoughts on “Look, a chunk of kidney.

  1. You just described my nightly routine, except for the sick child. Thanks for the laugh . . . I always slept in my childs’ bed when they were sick. Hope he gets better soon.

  2. Next time make him sleep in the guest room. Pretty amazed you still sleep in same room with his snoring…which all of us in family has witnessed. 😉

  3. Since VSM is a Texan, be thank full he didn’t pull out a 12 gauge shotgun and blow the smoke detector to smithereens. Give the Beast honey, lemon and whiskey for the cough. My mom always gave it to me when I was tot. I don’t know if it worked but I didn’t care after about 6 tablespoons of the “snake oil”.

    • I remember Mom giving us that snake oil too. Loved it then and still want it every time I get sick. Of course, I’m always looking for a reason to drink whiskey.

  4. Sounds exactly like my man. I’m always amazed that he can be awake and talking one minute, and the next be passed out and snoring loud enough to shake the walls. Must be a man thing.

  5. “I believe snoring is a choice and he does it just to irritate me”.
    Made me laugh out loud – which I had to conceal to not wake up my napping kids!
    Love your blog.

    ps – My husband has fallen asleep in the middle of an argument before. There are no words.

  6. Oh my gosh, I had no idea my husband was a polygamist until this post! Not long ago mine actually rolled over and went back to sleep with a MOUSE terrified and jumping in the corner of the bedroom. Like 6 inches from my face. Still being stalked by the very excited cat. You’d have thought the jet engine level snoring would have scared it away, but no such luck.

  7. I’m one of those men you are talking about. snoring, disoriented when I wake up… hell, I fell asleep in the middle of phone sex once! finally I went and had a sleep study done on me and was prescribed a CPAP machine. It’s amazing how much it helps. I don’t snore, I wake up well rested… it is wonderful, except that it doesn’t work as well now that I’m trying to grow a beard.

    You might try to get VSM to go for a sleep study to see if he needs one as well!

  8. I second the recommend by Dash. My husband uses a CPAP and it’s wonderful. Those nights that he falls asleep without putting it on, make me want to just whop him with that pillow hard.

    And I have totally made him get out of bed in the middle of the night and fix the smoke detector as well LOL and he was incredulous “You can’t be serious, you expect me to fix this now?” well hell YEAH who can sleep through that besides them? Oh wait, just a few days ago, he slept through our German Shepherd barking in the bedroom at some noise only he heard. They’re truly unbelievable. And we think they’re going to protect us if someone breaks in. My ass, they’ll wake up in the morning, we’ll be missing and kidnapped, and they won’t have any idea what happened.

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