Just for housekeeping’s sake: I’ll be posting again later with yesterdays, (or is it the day before’s? ) zero to hero challenge.
In the meantime….
Oh dear. Boofuls came away from his meeting yesterday with the makings of a major cold. By the time he’d completed the long drive home from the southern counties it had developed nicely into a stinker. He arrived home grey faced, exhausted and obviously not well. This is no man flu, this is the real thing, well, so he tells me.
Such a joy to sleep with at the best of times, now the lovely snoring has been added to with sniffles, snorts, grunts and a few other noises I’m not sure it should be possible for a human being to create. In an effort to be nice when he’s not well I didn’t kick him out to the spare room, neither did I bludgeon him to death with a blunt instrument although it was a close run thing once or twice.
What? Why don’t I sleep in the spare room?
Now, dear reader, we’ve had this conversation before, in this post, please don’t make me repeat myself.
To add to my joy at once again being deprived of my much needed beauty sleep, I heard a couple of barks coming from downstairs. Oh no. That usually signals the start of a doggie seizure. I hauled my backside out of bed to go and investigate. Douggie the doggie was fast asleep on his bed. He opened one eye and wagged his tail feebly a couple of times as if to say, ‘Alright? It’s a bit early, Mum.’ and then he went back to sleep. Lucky dog. He should try getting some sleep in my room, I was half tempted to crawl into his bed with him.
I sloped off back upstairs, cursing under my breath about sleep deprivation and made a detour via the bathroom. As I crept back into my bedroom, I nearly had a heart attack as something moved and came towards me, a white ghostly shape. A ghost!
No. A dog. He’d slunk upstairs while I was in the bathroom. Obviously taking me at my word about trying to sleep in my room.
I let him stay in just in case a seizure was imminent because he does usually come and ask for help when a seizure is imminent and I’d feel horribly guilty if I’d kicked him out.
That decision effectively put an end to any plans I’d had about getting some shut eye. Boofuls snored, sniffed and snorted. Douggie paced, panted and pawed at me in between trying to jump on the bed and flopping onto the floor with a bump, making me think that he was actually having a seizure and not just royally winding me up.
It didn’t take long until I’d had enough. I announced to no one in particular, “Oh for Gawd’s sake!!!! RIGHT!!!!! I’ll just get up shall I?”
And so started today. How did the start of your day go?