Saturday night as my hubby adjusted his CPAP machine over his head and face and mouth, he turned to me and said ‘by the way-you snore now’.
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I laughed so hard I could have peed the bed. I couldn’t stop laughing at the thought that after almost 17 years of struggling to sleep with him, and his snoring, that now I am keeping him awake.
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And apparently I am. Even the lull of his CPAP machine can’t block out the sounds emanating from my gaping pie hole after I have dozed off.
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Luckily hubby is sufficiently afraid of me at night that he wouldn’t dare to wake me up.
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Personally, I have always slept better with white noise in the background.
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I sleep just great with the hissing of his new CPAP machine! In fact, better than I have in years!

You know what I hate?
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I hate when I am about to have a yummy treat, say, a coconut donut or a dessert at a restaurant and my hubby, who doesn’t like to order things like that, reaches across for some of mine.
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I am NOT joking. I wouldn’t joke about something so serious.
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Even when I tell him that I am NOT sharing, as we are ordering, he still thinks he can reach across for a taste when my treat arrives.
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Sometimes the person who serves us is just as crazy as my hubby and actually brings TWO forks or spoons, even though we have only ordered one item. That really bugs me.
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Because then hubby thinks he is entitled to some, because the server person brought him a utensil to eat with.
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How annoying. If you want dessert, please order your own…if you are with someone who orders dessert, and you say you don’t want anything, stick to that decision when the deliciousness arrives. Even if the person who ordered dessert offers you some, stick to your guns. They are only being nice, and don’t really want to share their treat with you. They will complain later that you mooched some of their dessert and they will probably like you less.
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Trust me.

My hubby got excited Friday night…it’s not what you think.
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He sneezed, and I looked away from my laptop to tell him (for the five hundred millionth time) to sneeze into his ELBOW!!!
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He stared at me in amazement. He said he hoped that he would sneeze again soon so that I would pay attention to him again.

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I knew he was desperate for my attention but I didn’t realize he was this desperate…I’m thinking that he may NOT be sneezing into his elbow on purpose, just to have me give him my full attention on the rare occasion that he has a nose tickle.
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Hmm… He knows I’m a germophobe, so he may just keep up this attention seeking behaviour of his… or maybe he is getting sick….and if he’s getting sick, I’ll definitely need to banish him to the spare room. I don’t need any more germs before this school year is over!
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Threatening bedroom banishment might be just the way to get hubby sneezing into his elbow immediately…and to stop sneezing altogether.

I know that I need to get my hair done. The last time I had it highlighted was before school started in September.
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My own children must be growing up, or maybe I’ve been sounding so much like my Dad lately that they are afraid of me now, because even my teenage daughter hasn’t been rude about my hair for quite a while.
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So thank goodness my grade one students are still young enough to tell me like it is.
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Last week, a very sweet little girl drew a picture of me. It had a smiling face with long wavy hair. The hair was coloured in brown, with a little bit of yellow on the ends.
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So. It’s definitely time for some highlights. With ‘time’ being the key word.
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I don’t know when. But I’m hoping soon.

I have readily admitted that I have in some ways become my mother.
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As a teenager, we fear this and think it just will never happen.
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Then we have children of our own and suddenly one day we open our mouths and hear our mother’s voices saying “because I said so!” and “because I’m the Mom, that’s why!” And don’t forget the good ol’ “I don’t care what so and so’s mother let her do, you aren’t doing that!”
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I don’t mind that I sound like my mother.
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But now, I think I’m starting to sound like my father.
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Now my mouth opens and things come out of it like “close the fridge door NOWWWWW!” and “turn off those lights, they are costing us money!”
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I cringe when the front door slams and complain when lunches aren’t eaten and food goes to waste. I am constantly telling people to stop leaning or pulling on the kitchen cabinet doors.
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Now it is actually starting to make sense why my Dad complained so damn much.
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Kids really do bring out the worst in you sometimes, don’t they?