Rise & shine
We have a problem.
Well actually, it’s Farmguy’s problem. It affects me, too. Especially this morning. This morning I was very much affected by Farmguy’s problem.
You see … he’s been having trouble hearing his alarm. He says it’s because he has listened to the same boring tone from that old clock radio for 12 years, and it no longer has the power to awaken him. I say it’s because he needs to go to bed earlier. Maybe it’s a bit of both.
Usually the alarm goes off forever and I have to prod, elbow, kick and shove him awake so he will turn the blasted thing off. Only he doesn’t turn it off. He hits the snooze button.
Then we repeat the process at least three times. It’s how we say good morning.
The approach changed without my knowing.
Last night he prepared a new strategy and did not warn me.
He turned the volume all the way up.
At a cold, predawn hour my nose was suddenly smashed into my face — not once, but twice. And all the while the old, faithful alarm clock blared it’s rousing beeeeep, beeeeep, beeeeep.
Hey, at least my pain-filled shrieks were enough to make the crazy man open his eyes and come to his senses.
Note to self.
Wear face mask to bed.
When Farmguy is startled from a deep sleep because he doesn’t go to bed on time and turns the volume all the way up, his knee-jerk reaction is to smash the alarm clock to smithereens … without opening his eyes long enough to see that his wife’s nose is not the snooze button.
On the other hand … he did eventually find the alarm clock. He switched the alarm off. And he got out immediately out of bed. Granted, it was to get me an ice pack. But I tried to remember, little victories lead to great success.
Even if there’s blood and bruises along the way.
Good morning to you … cock-a-doodle-do.