If this were clickbait, I’d title it SEE HOW DOING THIS ONE SIMPLE THING CAN CHANGE YOUR LIFE!
And then you’d all be like, “What? I want change in my life, too!”
And you’d click it and be all, “Fuck all. Earplugs? Really?”
And I’d say, “Yes, really!”
Sometime after the first of the year, but when school wasn’t in yet, I had this horrible, terrible, very bad night of sleep. Blasted cats with the crying and scratching.
Catticus: I want out of Moo’s room! I want to eat food!
Cletus: I have eaten the food and I want to bathe upon your chest!
Clara: Why is everyone scratching? I must put my paws under the door and call to them.
Catticus: Seriously. I’m starving. I’m down to eleven pounds now. Let me out!
So I let Catticus out of Moo’s room, Clara out of our room, and Cletus into our room. Then Clara wanted to see what Cletus was going to do, so she came back in. They began to fight, which I am sure sounded like this:
Clara: Don’t look at me like that, you little asshole.
Cletus: I’ll look at you as I please and I’ll bite your neck and lick your ears and pounce on your tail and you’ll like it.
Clara: I don’t like it. I will cry, but remain passive and put my butt on Mama’s head.
Cletus: Fine. I’ll just sit here and lick my empty sack.
Then The Mister rolled over.
why is it so hot in here? why is my husband made of liquid hot magma?
Then Catticus at Moo’s door: Excuse me. Pardon me. Hello? Moo? I am full now. Full to capacity. I must lie down. I must lie on your bed and bathe now. Hello? Human? Let me in!
Having had enough of cats, hot, and SNORE I decided to take a pill.
but you haven’t had to take a pill in a long time, and you’ve done so well.
yes, but my family hates me and this is killing my nerves. how do they all sleep so freakin hard? how can they not hear that?!?
really joey, just get up and take the whole milligram. maybe maman and reta are right. maybe it’s time to get earplugs.
someone will break into the house and no one will hear a damn thing. okay, sadie would hear it. but what if the children cry or cough in the night? oh, like they’re not going to come tell you about it? right. earplugs tomorrow. yes. i will buy earplugs. and i will muzzle the cats, and put them on little stretchers like hannibal lecter and wheel them into the garage at night! yes, that’s how i’ll do it!
he will choke to death in his sleep. you’ll wake up with a corpse. no one will be there to tell him to roll over and he will choke to death.
i deserve sleep, too.
i’m a good person, i deserve sleep.
“It’s a good thing you’re asleep and you don’t know how much I hate you right now.” *pet The Mister’s head*
you don’t hate him. you love him. it’s not his fault. it’s his pediatrician’s fault. and his mother’s. she shoulda trusted her motherly instinct and gotten a second opinion. stupid pediatrician. he should hafta sleep with the pediatrician every night. pediatrician prolly dead now. enjoy your peace, lucky motherfucker.
So I got up and let Catticus into Moo’s room and then I went to get a pill. But it was night, and my hands were useless and there were no halves. I wrangled and spilled them all over the counter and for a split second, wondered how much ativan a cat can take…Then I took a pill and opened Moo’s door and said to Catticus, “Imma leave this open.” He nodded with approval.
I opened Sassy’s door in the hopes that Cletus would go sleep with his butt on her face.
I got into bed where I would spend the next three hours miserably awake but too sedated to do anything but pet my cat and cry and think about absolutely everything ever, sometimes two or three times for good measure.
I fell asleep just after dawn, just after the pill wore off, just after my husband miraculously began to breathe like a human being.
The Mister bought my earplugs, brought them to me, showed me how to squish them and put them in.
I instituted a new household rule that all doors are to be cracked at night, wide enough for all cats to pass through. Fuck fire safety. Mama needs her sleep.
I put the earplugs in every single night. Every single night, I hear the sound of my own deep, heavy breathing and the sound of my own heartbeat. My own breathing and my own heartbeat sound like I am fantastically healthy and my mind is perfectly clear. My own breathing and my own heartbeat sound like my family loves me and my cats are precious angels. I am my own white noise machine! Until the alarm goes off.
I have slept like a professional self-centered sleeper for more than three weeks now. I guess The Mister sleeps better too. He gets to sleep on both his hips and his back and no one yells at him all night. He sometimes tells me his throat is sore from snoring. I say, “Aw, Baby, that’s rotten,” and I smile because I never heard a thing.