“It’s not a punishment”.
“How is sleeping in another room, away from you, not a punishment, Sir?” I know the ‘Sir’ was too quippy, but I couldn’t help it. I practically stomped into the guest room.
“It’s not because I say it’s not. You need to get a good night sleep and get over this cold. You will take these meds to help you sleep and then you may actually sleep through the baby.” I swallowed both pills in one gulp of defiance. He tucked me in and turned the humidifier on. “No touching yourself.” He said it as he closed the door, like an afterthought. But as I laid there, waiting for the drugs to help me drift off, it was all I could think about. Damn him for planting the seed.
I’m not sure exactly how he wanted the plan to work, but I don’t think I succeeded. My mom instincts woke me up when the baby cried, even with the meds. The sense of guilt that I was laying in bed and he was up several times with the baby was awful.
And the worst part, is that it didn’t really help all that much. My throat is still scratchy. Stupid germs. And now Sir is at work when he didn’t sleep well all night. I love it when he takes control, but I hate feeling like I could have served him better.
So my mission today is to feel better, come hell or high water. Get things done and never put Sir in the position to kick me out of bed again, even if it is for my own good. Some things are ok to only experience once.