Some of my favorite conversations that I have with Hubs, are the ones that he has to be reminded of, the next day. Since we first met, Hubs has exhibited tendencies to sleep-walk/talk and pee on random things (that are NOT the toilet) when intoxicated… While the first 2 usually prove to be mostly fun and games… the random urination can really keep me on my toes. Without a shadow of a doubt, the absolute WORST thing ever to have faced the wrath of the Hub’s drunken bladder would definitely be Dickie’s bassinet. Thankfully our wee baby Dickie was not IN his bassinet, during that specific potty time. Basically, at this point in our relationship, I recognize that if Hubs goes traveling, after we have turned in, following a night of drinking… I must trail after him. If I’m unable to put a stop to the rogue pee-ing, at least I’ll know where the wet spot is… so I can throw a warning towel over it, or something. Try not to envy my life… it’s really not as glamorous as it may seem.
Last night, it happened… again. At around 3AM I was woken by the shifting of weight on our mattress. Although the room was pitch black and without even feeling over to the left side of our bed, I knew Hubs was on the move. I silently attempted to will him into our bathroom “Just walk straight… Don’t turn right” The jumbled opening and immediate closing of our bedroom door signaled that my mute pleas had gone unanswered. I lay motionless under the warmth of my covers for a few extra seconds, not wanting to expose my body to the chilled December air, circulating in our room. The silence coming from the other side of the bedroom door, reminded me that the feeling of bare foot stepping into cold urine-soaked carpet was far worse… and I rose. I tiredly walked to our bedroom door, wondering how far into the house he had made it this time. As I swung the door open, I saw Hubs standing motionless as he faced the cabinets housing our bath towels.
The good news was that he wasn’t peeing. The bad news was… that at some time in the very near future, he would be. I had to act quickly. I tried to pull him out of his “everything’s a urinal” world by quietly asking him what he was doing… Mistake number 1. He jolted sideways, entering our younger son’s room, while muttering about our bathroom door being locked… I slowly reminded him that he was inside our kid’s room and that their room was NOT a bathroom… He exited their room, without much of a fight and I placed my hands on his arm, attempting to guide him towards our bathroom. Mistake number 2. Have you ever seen the way that a person with Autism reacts when touched? Well, picture that time 75… Hubs went full on Rain Man, on me… He careened down the hall, furiously mumbling about our locked bathroom door. I tiredly yelled after him that our bathroom door doesn’t even lock… OR have a handle, for that matter!!!
Hubs made a sharp turn and somehow ended up inside the boy’s bathroom. Since he had officially placed himself inside a room where pee-ing is sanctioned, I allowed myself to clock out and returned to my covers. Hubs would return to our room a little later. The remainder of my sleep was uneventful. The next day I didn’t even bat an eye when Hubs slept in a couple of extra hours… When he finally did wake up, he heard the one sentence nobody ever wants to hear from a blogger…
“You are SO getting blogged about!!!” *followed my hysterical laughter*
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