The past few weeks have been horrible in our household. We’ve all had colds, coughing, sneezing, disgusting noses, the whole shebang. With all of this nasty crud, it also means we’ve all been snoring. Well, snoring when we actually managed to get a few moments of sleep between the coughing fits.
There may have been just a bit more of a spring in my step before everyone else as I was relieved of the cold germs. This meant I could snuggle into my pillow at night to finally get the full night sleep I’ve been missing for so long. Or at least that’s what I thought was going to happen.
One thing I failed to realize is that just because I was feeling better didn’t mean everyone else was. Never before had I been serenaded by a symphony of snores the way I was the last few nights of the rest of my family’s colds and never do I want to be serenaded in that way again. Who knew snores could come in so many different tones, volumes and time values. I think I had the not so fortunate opportunity to experience every combination and style of snoring possible this past week.
This miserable week of snores and lack of sleep reminded me of a story from about twenty five years ago, and yes reading back through that line made me feel really old. It took me back to my sister’s house right around the time my dad passed away. Don’t worry, this isn’t a sad story today. My family has always been amazing at finding the humor during even the saddest situations. Laughter is one of our coping methods it works for us.
My story takes place in the middle of the night at my sister’s house. I think everyone in the family was staying there because we knew my dad didn’t have much time and we wanted to be close to the city hospital where he was staying. I was only ten when this memory takes place, so the details surrounding the scene are a bit foggy, but the details of this story are exact.
I will never forget being bunched up on the loveseat in my sister’s living room. I want to say this is the same loveseat I slept on just six years prior after I broke my arm the night before my sister’s wedding. I could be wrong, the style of furnishings in my sister’s home aren’t quite so clear to me after all this time.
Anyway, I was on the loveseat and there was a coffee table pushed up against it so I had to climb around to get off the couch. On the opposite edge of the coffee table was the pull out couch bed. I’m sure you’ve had the pleasure of a few uncomfortable nights on a pull out couch bed at some point in your life. That was where my other sister, and possibly my niece were sleeping. Have I mentioned my siblings are all around seventeen plus years older than me and I have a neice who is eighteen months older than me? Though I think this may be a story for another day.
Back to this story, it makes me happy they managed to get some sleep that night, because I sure didn’t. My sister was snoring. She didn’t hear my requests to quiet down and I couldn’t climb over to her easily to shake her or hit her or whatever sisters do when they’re mad at each other. Instead I resorted to the only thing I could think of.
Throwing shoes at her.
I don’t know why we had shoes lined up on the coffee table, but I know there were a line of baby shoes and possibly some sandals for older kids. I flung one over to the bed and missed. It landed on the bed, but no where near my sister. Another shoe made it’s way to her side and then another. Out of desperation for just a few moments of sleep I hurled every shoe I could find over to my sister and yet the snoring didn’t cease.
I’m not sure how I fell asleep that night. Maybe she eventually stopped snoring, maybe I buried my head under a pillow. I’ll probably never remember. What I do remember is my sister waking up the next morning in a pile of shoes and not knowing how they got there. It was a good laugh for the family, yet she’s still never apologized for keeping me up that night. Then again, I never apologized for pelting her with shoes.
It’s probably a good thing for my own family here that I don’t keep shoes near the bed. They, too, might find themselves waking up in a pile of shoes someday.
Do you have someone in your family who snores? How do you handle it? I’d love to hear your fun stories in the comments below.