It is 12:30am. I am sitting in the dark, freezing, writing this post because if I don’t I will mentally write it until daybreak, or – being rather sleep deprived – I will promptly fall asleep, and forget the whole incident. Right now Lincoln has a cold. A nasty little cold that is hindering his breathing and causing him to wake every two hours. We’ve already had several rounds of this, and at midnight I decided to give him a feed. We’d just put him down, listened to his fitful stirrings, and crossed our fingers that he would drift off to sleep quickly. Imagine my surprise and concern then when Dave began rummaging in the freezer section of the refrigerator which is situated one metre from Lincoln’s cot! Not only that, there followed a series of sliding and banging noises along with the faint stirrings and grizzles of a disturbed baby. Mercifully Dave stopped making a racket and came back triumphantly brandishing a slice of frozen raisin bread. Ok, that’s not so weird. Midnight snack. Expecting him to head to the kitchen to toast the bread, I was completely taken aback when he climbed into bed and began munching on it frozen! Now I thought I was strange when I recently discovered the taste sensation of ice cream with cornflakes, and even then I was trumped when the very first person I told about it replied, “Yes, try it with Milo – it’s awesome. Been doing it for years.”, but I really, really think eating frozen bread products of any kind is out and out insanity.
“What are you doing?!”, I exclaimed, horror written all over my face, to which he replied:
“Eating frozen raisin toast, it’s really nice. Do you want to try som…?”
“No!”
“But you’ll never know what it’s like.”
“Good!”
He proceeded to laugh at the disturbed expression on my face until I regained my composure and said, “There’s one other question I have. Why did you take so long, make so much noise, and open and close several drawers for one piece of raisin toast?”
“Well I didn’t want to turn on the light and disturb Lincoln, so I fumbled about in the dark, and the bread bag tie fell off into one of the drawers which was ajar, so I looked for it.”
This is just too similar to another conversation which took place in the wee hours on the very first night of our honeymoon and ultimately the first time Dave was hissed at by a wife. I was awakened in the middle of the night to the sound of Dave thumping and crashing his way across our suite to the bathroom. Pretty impressive given the bathroom was no more than two metres away from the bed. After cringing and jumping every time he kicked the bed, tripped on a suitcase, or crashed into a wall, I snapped in frustration “For Heaven’s sake would you just turn on a light!” And you know what the ludicrous answer was? ”I didn’t want to disturb you.”
But I best be off, I only have about one hour, nine minutes, and 37 seconds before the Lincoln clock has shown from previous experience that he will wake up screaming for another round of soothing and cuddling. And you know what my crazy husband has just murmured? ”The trouble with having one piece of frozen raisin bread is you really want another.” What?
