I want to start this off by specifying that Taylor is usually a very sweet guy. Like, ridiculously sweet. He listens to me rant about my day, he lets me stick my freezing hands on his warm back, and when I have a bad day sometimes he goes to the store to get me a Diet Coke without me even asking him to.
Even when Taylor’s asleep he’s affectionate and kind. Every night at about two AM he rolls over and decides that we need to cuddle, and wraps me up in his python arms where I am completely trapped for all eternity, or until Taylor gets up at five AM, because he is psychotic and that’s when he gets up.
Try to wake Taylor up, though, and you’ll often be surprised by what happens.
So, last night.
I had been laying in bed reading The Hunger Games for half an hour when Taylor came in, and I was at a really good part. I tried not to get too distracted when he flopped into bed and pulled the covers up to his chin.
Taylor: “I bet I could fall asleep in about five minutes.”
Me: “I’m sure you could.”
Taylor: “I’m sooo tired.”
Taylor: “I love you.”
There was a long pause. I had just been reading a particularly suspenseful passage. How will Katniss and Peeta get out of this one? I thought, biting my fingernails. Taylor cleared his throat.
Taylor: “Uh, I love-”
Me: “Yeah. You too. Love you too.”
Satisfied, Taylor tilted his head back and shut his eyes. I don’t think it was even five minutes. Probably about two, and then he was breathing slowly and evenly and I was allowed to return to my book.
I had only meant to read until about ten thirty or so, but the chapter had ended on a cliff hanger. I hate cliffhangers. I always have to know what happens immediately. I have no patience that way. Usually this means that my bookmark goes into the book in the smack middle of a chapter, but that’s fine with me, as long as nobody has just told anybody they’re pregnant or dying or somebody is lunging somewhere with a knife. I had just started the next chapter when I got distracted again.
Taylor was lightly snoring.
Taylor: “Snnxx. Snnxx. Snnxx.”
When Taylor snores, usually all I have to do is tap him lightly, wake him up gently, and ask him to roll over. Sometimes it helps. Sometimes it doesn’t.
Taylor: “Snnxx. Snnxx. Snnxx.”
Me: “Sweeeetie. You’re snoring.”
Taylor: “Snnxx. Snnxx. Snnxx.”
Taylor rolled over and snored noisily in my face. That was about enough of that. I shoved him and flicked his ear.
Me: “You’re snoring like crazy. Can you shift your head or turn on your side or something?”
I waited. Taylor showed zero signs of doing anything.
Me: “Sweetie. Are you listening?”
Me: “Can you turn over?”
I waited again. Taylor smacked his lips a couple of times and remained stationary.
Me: “Can you turn over now?”
Taylor: “Mnnurrrghh. No.”
Me: “Why not?”
Taylor opened a single bloodshot eye and glared at me.
Taylor: “I’ll do it in a second. I’m resting.”
Experience has taught me that this meant that Taylor was talking in his sleep and wasn’t, in fact, going to move anytime soon. I sighed and tried to shove him onto his other side. Taylor growled and put all of his sleepy energy into staying put.
Me: “Sweetie, turn over.”
Oh well. At least he had half-woken up. Sometimes that’s enough to stop the snoring. I turned back to my book and tried to find my place again. Oh, yes. There I was. Page fifty four. Poor Katniss, how will you survive the cruelty of these harsh times? Will your tenacity be enough to sustain you as you fight for your freedom, nay, your very life? Can you trust your so-called friends? Should you trust your so-called enemies?
Me: “SWEETHEART. DEAR ONE. WAKE UP.”
Me: “You are being a snoremonster and you need to turn over or something because geez.”
I reached over and tried to manually turn Taylor’s head myself. He reached up to bat me away like a pesky fly, so I changed tactics and threw my shoulder against his torso, scrabbling against the sheets, trying to gain a little traction to roll him over. Taylor’s face scrunched up unhappily. It was like trying to shove a bear. Finally, the thought that I wanted something from him penetrated his tired brain and he glanced at me through heavily lidded eyes.
Me: “Will you please turn over?”
Taylor peered at me. For a moment, I’m sure, he had no idea who I was, or why I was asking him to do such an outrageous thing, but then realization pierced through and he nodded listlessly. He laboriously turned on his side (with a lot of grumbling, flailing, and teeth gnashing) and started clawing around the bedside table for the lamp.
Me: “Your lamp is off, sweetheart.”
Me: “You don’t have to turn your lamp off. My lamp is on.”
He settled in and I kissed his shoulder and went back to my book.
Me: “Thank you, sweetie. If you start snoring again I’ll just go out to the couch, okay?”
Me: “Okay. Loooove you.”
Taylor: “MNUH BLUH.”
I searched for place again and read for about fifteen seconds.
Taylor: “SNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNXXXXXXXXXXX. SNX SNGHGH SNHGUGH SNXXXXXXX.”
Me: “AHAHA. OKAY. ALL RIGHT. Sweetie. I’m going out to the couch. Don’t be startled when you wake up and I’m not here.”
Taylor mumbled something incomprehensible.
Taylor: “FINE. GO.”
I chuckled and collected my pillow and a blanket and shuffled out to the couch where I slept in blissful silence for the rest of the night. At six in the morning Taylor poked his head around the corner, guilt written all over his face.
Taylor: “You can…uh, come back to bed now.”
I slogged back, flopped into bed and slept for another hour and a half until my alarm went off. Before I left for work I popped in to Taylor’s office and gave him a hug. We talked about mundane little things like what we were going to do for lunch and whether I would be busy at work. Finally, I told him about his stubbornness the night before.
Taylor: “I was so startled when I woke up last night and realized you were gone.”
Me: “I told you I was going.”
Taylor: “Yeah, I know, but, like, this is what happened, from my perspective. I got into bed. I said, ‘I bet I could fall asleep in about five minutes’ and I did. And then I woke up, and you were gone, and I had no idea what was happening. I thought, ‘this is very strange, and I need to think about this.’ And then I woke up again and realized that you had probably just gone out to the couch because I was snoring, and I felt bad. I don’t remember any of that other stuff at all.”
I smooched him on the forehead.
Me: “I know. I’m going to blog about this.”