My husband and I have been together for nearly twelve years. Needless to say, he’s learned a lot of Megan survival skills. Things like if she’s crying, feed her. If you try and move her covers when she’s sleeping, Megan will consider this a death threat and kick you as hard as she can.
Sadly, or maybe pathetically, though expectedly is probably the most accurate word, the time he needs his survival skills most is in the morning. Through the years, we have developed a routine for optimal lack of tears and least time curled up in a ball fighting the fact the being a grownup means getting out of my warm sheets.
When we’re living someplace with a kitchen, which is currently and unfortunately not the case, the first alarm goes off. I kick him in the shins till the husband cuddles me. For this time period, I prefer to be the little spoon and have my butt snuggled. We lay there, waiting for the second alarm fifteen minutes later. After the second alarm, I have five minutes to curl up on his shoulder, a thing which can never be allowed when sleep is expected because of the copious amount of drool this produces.
After the third alarm, he gets up and goes to make smoothies. (more…)