Once upon a time there was a prince named Chance-a-lot... "Once upon a time" is the beginning of most bedtime stories, but I have to tell some funny bedtime stories on myself.
And none of them begin with "once upon a time."
Because, unfortunately, all of them are true.
Let me begin by making the disclaimer that I am a high-maintenance sleeper. For take off to sleepyland, the fliying conditions must be just right.
Here is the list of my demands:
1. I must be warm. Almost sweaty even.
2. There must be a fan running. For the noise.
3. Aforementioned fan must not be blowing on me because it would counteract the aforementioned sweatiness.
4. There cannot be any flashing lights. (ex. TV, my ancient dryer, etc.)
5. I must have completed my "nightly rituals." (These include - in this order - using the restroom, brushing my teeth, washing my face, and combing my hair.)
6. Chance and I must have prayed together.
7. I must read at least one page of a book. Under the covers. With my booklight.
Once I have climbed into bed, and all these demands have been met, I am prepared to fall asleep. And watch out, because fall asleep I will do. Many times in a matter of seconds.
This leads to the first of my "bedtime stories":
Twice, since Chance and I have been married, I have fallen asleep while praying out loud.
Falling asleep while praying out loud is not an easy task. It should probably be added to Paul's list of spiritual gifts.
The first time my prayer went something like this:
I thank You so much for this day, and for the beautiful weather. I thank you for Chance and our relationship... (zzz) And God, please be with all of Chance's toys. Thank you for them... (zzz).
At that point, Chance was mightily confused. First, he wasn't sure what toys he even had, and second, he thought the "moment of silence" at the end was going on a little too long.
He finally realized I had fallen asleep while praying!
The second time was not quite as dramatic, because I just stopped praying. No more words came out of my mouth.
Many husbands might panic or become concerned if their wife's prayer stopped short. Not my husband. He just quietly rolled over and let me sleep. Apparently I woke up an hour later and asked him if it was time to pray yet. I believe he answered with a snore...
Another great bedtime story happened relatively recently.
Most nights, I have too many thoughts in my crazy brain, so I must read a book (usually fiction) before my brain will shut itself down.
One night, I was reading one of these books under the covers (you know, to achieve sweatiness, without having the fan blow on me) and Chance decided to get up to use the restroom.
I have no idea how, but I did not feel Chance get out of bed. Apparently he did his thing and then climbed back into bed. After climbing into bed, he peeked his eyes over my book. This frightened the BAJEEZES out of me. I instinctively used my hand to protect myself from this surprise attack.
And by "used my hand" I mean, I poked my lovely-husband-of-four-years in the eyeball!
Needless to say, getting a cold compress and apologizing to my husband, are not on my list of demands for appropriate sleeping conditions.
The final bedtime story for tonight, happened just this week.
Recently, I've been exhausted with our busy schedules and with Joel's surgery.
I continue to get out a book and try to read at least one page, but it hasn't been taking my brain long to shut down. Well, one night, Chance woke up around 4:30 A.M. and he could see this glowing on my side of the bed. It somewhat concerned him, so he began moving the covers around.
And what did he discover? His lovely wife, sleeping (and probably drooling) while still clutching her book and her booklight.
Six hours later.
And they lived happily ever after...