H&C have been rather unwell this past week. Just as H seems to be recovering C was up at 2am with a fever. We brought her through beside us while her medicine kicked in and tried to stay awake while she pointed at everything in the room. “Ook” she says pointing to the lamp. “Ook” she says pointing to the dog. “Ook” she says pointing to the remote control for the lights (yes, we’re that lazy and yes, we still have a nightly argument about who’s turn it is to turn off the lights).
After about 20 minutes she seemed bright enough to go back to bed and, right enough, she settled back in quite the thing.
20 minutes was also enough time for my body to register that I was awake but hadn’t eaten anything yet and so began the hungry hiccups. We said our goodnights, turned off the light and I lay in the dark hiccuping. Barely aware that I was doing so and drifting happily off to sleep when… BOOGIDYBOO!
Yup. In the dark. At 2am my husband cured my hiccups, and also my need for sleep, by giving me the biggest fright of my life. He then proceeded to sulk because I didn’t thank him. I sulked because he didn’t apologise. I guess I should be thankful really because it gave me another 20 minutes of ploughing through Game of Thrones before my heart rate settled again and I was able to go back to sleep.
No wonder I’m using matches to keep my eyes open today. Gah.