I'm not really sure how I got the bad wrap. Somehow over the past almost 3 years I've garnered the reputation of being the stick-in-the-mud early to bed person in our relationship.
We valiantly tried to have the picture perfect hollywood type of marriage where bed time is concerned. You know, you both get ready for bed together, pull down the duvet, climb into bed, talk and read with by the light of individual lamps on bedside tables, lean over give a loving kiss goodnight and switch out the lights. We both really wanted it.
But I just can't stay up late enough for the ear doctor's last blood sugar measurement and insulin dose (have I mentioned before that he's type 1 diabetic?...well, he is). And if he attempted to go to bed before the 10:30 rerun of Seinfeld his mind might just explode.
So we're stuck.
I hit the sheets around 10:30 and he stays up til midnight.
But lately I've been paying closer attention. As we sit on the couch catching up with Simon's American Idol antics and scratching out heads at the plot trajectory of LOST I've started to realize that I am the only one awake! At one point, just when Claire was swinging the ax into that poor "other's" gut he woke up and asked, "what did I miss?"
How is it that I'm the late night party pooper because I prefer to doze off in my bed instead of on our couch?