Thursday, September 9, 2010
Do I have fleas? Not this time. This is how my escape into the world of sleep was rudely interrupted this morning. Even though we trim Pixies’ little grizzly claw paws a couple times a week, they still manage to penetrate the blanket to rake my attention. And this is the good way to wake up.
Usually, after a late night of dealing with doggy dilemma, I like to sprawl out like a fresh train wreck, mouth wide open, sawing logs like an obsessed lumber mill. I do not know if they sit during the quiet of day and plan it but our little coven of German Wire Hair Pointers have taken this as being the fun way to wake me up. I am not sure which one starts it but I am sure one of them says, “Hey look, daddy’s mouth is wide open and it sounds like he is choking on his tongue…lets’ use our tongues to help him out.” I have seen where these tongues have been. Boiling my mouth is a little painful and I have been encouraged to quit drinking the Lysol so I now sleep with my head under the blanket. This too has its draw backs.
For those times when the wife is not here to make me toe the line, she has trained a replacement. Her name is Mickey. She is a spoiled little girl with the expressive eyes of Cindy Lou Who from the Grinch movie. When she does something fun, like chewing up a $300.00 leather coat (which, coincidentally, the wife was wanting a new coat anyway, weird huh?) and I attempt to reprimand her, she will assume this look (I also see it when the wife wants another puppy) that will reach into your chest and tear your heart out by its roots. It makes you feel as though you were responsible for all the evils from the sinking of the Titanic to the rise of beer prices. Okay, I could cover up my head and not have to see her eyes but this is not her only trick. She has a whiny little whine that penetrates the brain like a cross between chewing on a sheet of aluminum foil and fingernails on the chalkboard. She will maintain this whining until dad, in all of his unwisdom, lifts up the blanket and lets her in to snuggle for what should be a good night of sleep.
It never works out this way.
For all of her sweet demeanor, the winds of hell would prove to be a breath of fresh air compared to the foul emissions my little German Wire Hair girl can percolate. I could be passed out, drugged, or dead and one little “poof” from this little girl would have me fighting back tears, gagging as I clawed my way out, around, or through whatever layers of blanket separated my lungs from breathable air and life. On the positive side, I have noticed that my nose hairs quit growing for two or three weeks after one of these episodes.
I learned long ago that a person cannot survive without sleep. I have a firm belief that the Creator, in all his wisdom, saw this coming, and invented coffee. I do survive in this lack of sleep mode…but barely. Coffee is my crutch. If I have had a really late night I will make really strong coffee in the morning and, for the protection of those individuals not acquainted with my coffee, my wife tries to get me to hang a “hazardous materials” sign from the coffee maker. After a couple of cups of this concoction, I could not sleep if I wanted to. Not only do my plate size eyes and zippy body movements emulate a ferret on speed, I also move around like I am hiding a running jack hammer in each pant leg.
So, next time we pass on the street and you say “good morning” I hope you will forgive me when I stare at you through red slitted eyes, growl and paw the air like a wounded badger. I am not really mental… Well, a little maybe, but mostly tired.
P.S. I would appreciate it if anyone could tell me where a person could buy one of those little mask thingys’ that fencers use when they duel and a cheap used scuba tank.