Right Hook, Left Hook

Last night my husband fell asleep before I did. This is how it always is. It's never been any different. Not one day in the history of our days or nights together have I ever been able to fall asleep first. And if I did it was most definitely Grigio related and/or I had just given birth but as I recall he was still sawing wood before I had a chance to brush my teeth for the night on those three occasions.

So he's asleep and I'm not. It's getting chilly and our thermostat was not an accounting major. I have to turn up the AC (oh the irony) and decide sneaking out of bed is best so as not to awaken the sleeping husband body. I achieve departure unnoticed and return feeling victorious. In one instant I am mentally high-fiving myself, in the next instant I am returning fire.

"What THE?!?!" I hiss.

"Garrr-dooo-bleee nyaaah," the sleeping husband groans as he springs sideways to grab me by right shoulder and hip bone.

"I'm fine. I'm not falling out of bed!" but my words are missed on the subconscious one. He slurs more protective jargon and claws at my arms with the kind of brute energy that makes me realize he is all Marine, and a scary one at that, if he ever wants or needs to be. I cannot not move. Even from the depths of REM he renders me immobile and still.

"Honey! Wake up! I'm fine, it's me and I'm not falling off the bed, there are no children, no dogs, no stray blankets or crackers falling off the bed either!! Get off mee!" I yell in the most hysterical attempt of mute ever imaginable to no avail. He continues to contain me in his sleep.

So there we are beating the sh*t out of one another in the middle of the night while the contestants of Top Chef figure out what to do with ostrich eggs and duck balls.

And I do mean beating the sh*t out of each other. He, with his over protective zombie punches and crazy slurs. Me, with my pissed off girl hooks and angry elbow jabs. It was quite the scene. I know it lasted for a while because I can hardly move my right arm today.

I wonder how his left side is doing. I wonder if he even remembers. I wonder what the hell I'm so mad at that I'd take offense to his trying to save me from the three foot drop off our bed into a fluffy embrace of clean laundry on my side.

Seriously, what kind of woman punches back when a man is trying to rescue her from danger?

Probably exactly the kind in need of some rescuing.