Part One
Not unusually, The Mister gets up at 5, grooms, makes his travel coffee, picks up his lunch, dials our bedroom dimmer light to one, kisses me, and leaves.
I sleep lightly and dream heavily. I wake up in strange mental landscapes. I wake with emotions right on the surface. I spend my first brain activity trying to piece together fragmented images of dreams.
I say things when he wakes me. I might say “Love you” or “Have good day,” but mostly I moan. Sometimes I might startle or snort, or try to pull him back into bed by his tie. Now and again I don’t know I’m awake so I might warn him that the dog is on fire and needs new batteries. I think we can agree, he’s quite brave to serve as my first warning that morning has arrived.
Rarely, while The Mister’s shaving I get up and bag his lunch, pack him a breakfast, make his coffee. Even less often, I am writing when he wakes.
He does not talk in the morning. It is as important to not talk to The Mister in the morning as it is not to feed Gremlins after midnight. He also wakes up in strange mental landscapes, with emotions on the surface. Although he seldom remembers his dreams, it’s easy enough to determine they are violent. I think he wakes up on THREATCON BRAVO, and as such, I do not wake him like one wakes other people. I poke and retreat. Poke and retreat.
I know couples on television and in the movies wake up with witty banter and cutesy talk, but we wake up like oil and water. I could tell you many stories about how vulnerable I was, and how I spent an hour crying over how cruelly he spoke to me, and then how he called at 9am to tell me he was sorry, but it’s best I relate this to you in terms of our children, who are, it seems, just like us.
“Sissy, I’m makin toast. Would you like toast? Do you want some of this strawberry butter, too?”
“If I want some toast, I’ll make some damn toast! What I do is none of your business! Don’t you think I can make toast without you?!? And no, I don’t want your stupid strawberry butter!”
Bubba puts the strawberry butter back in the fridge, “I was just askin because I could leave the toaster and the bread out for you. Excuse me for being courteous!”
Sissy slams bread into the toaster and mumbles about how capable she is and how annoying her brother is.
Bubba’s eyes water. I pat his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Buddy, but we’ve told you not to talk to it in the morning, haven’t we?”
Bubba nods.
“Do you know where my orange jacket is?” Moo asks Sassy.
“Why would I know where your orange jacket is?”
“I dunno. Cause you have eyes. You might’ve seen it.”
“Your room is a pit. Why don’t you go in your room and look for it! Don’t blame me when you lose things! I can’t even fit in your orange jacket! What’m I gonna do, wear it on one arm?!? Jeez, Moo! Shut up about your stupid orange jacket!”
Yes. We are just like them. They are just like us. Recently this was evidenced by Bubba, Moo, and myself, sitting at the dining table, chatting pleasantly while sharing a watermelon breakfast, while the others sat in the living room in silence, probably secretly hating us and scowling at nothing.
Part Two
Some people you can sense coming. You can feel them before they arrive. They have a large presence. But, there are few people I cannot feel coming, even at close proximity. They’re just naturally deft and quiet, like ninjas. Those sneaky-ass people are dangerous to me, as I have anxiety disorder and they scare the daylights out of me.
My son likes to come upon me while I’m busy and simply stand beside me and stare at me until I notice him. Then I like to jump and scream. Then he likes to laugh. His eyes dance as he says he’s sorry. He’s not sorry.
I cannot tell you how many times I have stood in the shower, washing my hair, only to open my eyes and discover The Mister standing directly in front of me. Of course, I jump and scream like Norman Bates got in my shower, and The Mister laughs and laughs. I’d told him repeatedly that such a fright is bad for my anxiety, but he didn’t take me seriously. He takes too great a pleasure in scaring me.
Or rather, he DID.
Part Three
Once this last winter, I awoke to the sound of the door alarm beeping, only to realize I’d slept through my morning kiss.
I leapt out of bed and rushed out to the drive to kiss him. He was already pulling away, so I ran around to his door and smiled.
I scared him so badly, he practically jumped into the passenger seat.
Have I mentioned I’m white as a ghost? I am.
Did I mention I was wearing my white pajamas? I was.
Y’all know I had some wild bedhead goin on.
I was like his wife, but I stood out rather spectacularly, specter-ly even, in the cold, dark, loneliness that is 5:30am in our driveway.
Apparently, it’s not funny to scare someone who has PTSD. I guess that kinda fright can really do a number on their anxiety.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
I scared him!
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
He hasn’t tried to scare me since.
This post was inspired by Aussa Lorens, do you even read her?
joeyfullystated 
Crazy, sure, yup, I do read Aussa, Joey.
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Oh no! The white pajama scare is so funny and not funny…I feel kind of badly for laughing. I can’t remember when I was last scared like that (the shower scare is especially terrible!) but I was startled the other day. I was at a work station at the library, focused on whatever I was doing. Suddenly, there was a strange guy’s voice in my ear and I jumped– and of course lost the rhythm of whatever I was doing. He had quietly approached and leaned between me and the person next to me, asking to use a pencil. I guess it isn’t common knowledge that it’s bad form to come up behind strangers like that.
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No, I don’t suppose good manners are often used enough! Thanks for sharing your recent scare.
I’m just glad the scares are over here 🙂
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My wife shares your sense of amusement when it comes to a good scare…actually stabbed me with a pencil once. She said it was a reflex reaction, but I’m not buyin’ it.
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Oh my!
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I just can’t stop getting that image out of my head. Bed hair… check! White face… check! White pajamas… check! I would have been terrified especially since I have horrible night vision. Yikes! LOL!
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😀
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I’ve been startled by my husband walking up behind me not even trying to be ninja-like, by him walking into the kitchen even though I could here him coming, and more sadly by a lock of my own hair that I see out of the corner of my eye and think it’s an assassin or something come to get me.
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I have that hair thing, too! lol
Gah, we’re such sissies!
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So glad I’m not the only with scary hair. 😀
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I get scared easily as well if someone creeps up on me. That is guaranteed to put me in a bad mood!
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Oh gosh, I’m not much of a morning person either. Do not expect any sort of conversation from me until after I’ve finished breakfast at least.
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Note to self: if passing through Joeytown, do so at proper hour. Offer to meet in public, well lit place. Breakfast might not be the meal.
Great post. My wife can scare me because she’s quiet and navigates easily in darkness. I go from light switch to light switch turning on daylight. We don’t speak until later – I’ve learned.
I will be checking out the link in a few. Thanks.
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Yeah, breakfast for dinner is better! I’m like you, light switch to light switch, and he is like your wife, can see in the dark. I think I’ll post a story about that, too! Thanks, Dan 🙂
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We love breakfast for dinner 🙂
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Me too!
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The last few years I have become a morning person. I think it is mandatory as you get older. I think a Morning Joey may be a creature best observed from a distance. A frizzy haired pale face in the darkness. Now that is scary.
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I like quiet in the morning….Sipping coffee and watching the sky lighten…husbands should be quiet in the morning….that is all…
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Someone pulled up behind me at a stoplight and then a loud “BOOM” came from their car. It scared me something fierce. Too much bass, kid.
I have a similar relationship with dreams, sometimes the lines between being awake and asleep blurred.
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Blurred is the perfect word for it, thanks 🙂
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Hahahaha. This was fun. My wife and scare the beejesus out of each other all the time. It’s fun to do but payback is a bitch.
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It’s nice to know, if I ever come to call, I’ll need sedation.
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Oh great family tales, Joey! Love the sibling dialogue. Snippets of these proclivities run through every family, i imagine. I LOVE the words you use to describe waking in the midst of your dreams. Mostly I’m a ‘not before my coffee’ waker, but Hub is not a chatterer under any circumstances so that works well.
The hardest hour for me used to be coming home from work. After we married, I could barely stand to come home from work because another body was inside the walls with me. I didn’t just want to be alone in a room, I wanted to live alone in the whole house. Hub understood and accomodated me, but that only added to my stress because I felt so guilty about not showering him with love.
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I think you’re right about the proclivities of families. Seems most everything comes in sets. Thank you for sharing that bit about the intricacies of your relationship. It’s interesting to me. I am an only child, and having a large family (although I wanted it) always conflicted with the need for solitude, so I relate to your self-inflicted guilt there.
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It’s a lifelong struggle for me. I think it’s one reason I decided not to have kids because I didn’t know how to be around them and keep myself healthy. So I admire and empathize those of you strong enough to do so. Have my annual trek to Michigan coming up and I want to be there until I get there and then I want to be home 1,500 miles away in Colorado 😀
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Lol!! Wish you had video to go with this! My Hubby and I are just like you two only opposite. He is obnoxiously happy in the AM. I am the silent and dangerous one. He knows not to speak to me before my coffee! Thanks for the laughs!
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If I’d known it would be a hysterical start, I would’ve tried to take video, that’s for sure. Thanks for commenting!
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I’ve never understood how couples on TV and in movies can kiss each other in the morning. I wrap the blanket around my face first thing.
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On a day we both sleep in, we’ve got no trouble kissing or talking sweetly, but days with alarms are the furthest thing from that.
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I laughed so hard!!!
But I do feel you in the mornings. Do. Not. Even. Acknowledge. My. Existence. (Except for when I feel needy and want you to notice me, and than you should know magically. Because it’s morning. Because.)
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Loved this!
I’m a moody bitch when I wake up in the mornings (well, a lot of the time). My hubby things it’s hilarious, as I will literally stomp around the house slamming cabinet doors doing what needs to be done while I work my grump out.
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Not a morning person, and it’s morning…enough said.
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Loved this! I’m not a morning person either and I prefer not to talk first thing, but I must say that if anything could make me a morning person it’s that I’ve been waking up to someone playing with my hair just before my alarm is going off and a rub of my shoulders… Starts my day off on the right note! I hope I never sleep through my morning kiss!
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