[Or, “Why I Don’t Keep Sharp Implements By My Bed”]

I’m going to try and tell this story in such a way as to not come out looking too stupid or perverted or cranky, but it may be a stretch.

Know first that I sleep with earplugs because Bob can snore like a freight train going 90 miles an hour through your back yard. It’s a gift. But earplugs confuse things for me.

Know also that I get what amounts to a chemical wake-up crankiness that is intense when it happens and then evaporates, completely unaided, in two or three minutes. It’s weird and feels like uber-fast PMS.

Another “You Should Know” -ism, last one, I promise: My gadgety husband bought me one of those Bose Wave Radio/CD players [except that it’s a different brand with better ratings -Go Bob!] to replace my one-button blue and yellow plastic SpongeBob alarm clock. Can I just say here, that while it was very nice of him to get me that nice unit, it’s really, really hard and complicated to work in your sleep? Yes. I can say that.

Yesterday morning at 5 a.m., I was awakened by a big dog nose in the face. I was too groggy to remember what part of the face, but it was a big jolt because for once I had been sound asleep. I figured out that Sissy thought it was time to get up. I looked at the clock and it was an hour early, God Forbid. I heard a buzzing sound and went to turn off the alarm.

I reached over and poked the round spot where there should have been a light telling me the alarm was set and/or going off playing the FM radio to wake me.

Notice I said the *radio playing* was the alarm, not a buzzer. When I poked the button, the radio came on, and the buzzer kept buzzing. I decided in that addled moment that Sissy [of the big dog nose] had messed with the buttons on the radio. AAAARRRGGHH!! Quelle Horror!!! How will I ever reset it! You DO have to be a rocket scientist to control it!!! I had my wakey-crank on big-time and hollered at Sissy and took an earplug out. Bob wanted to know why I hollered at her, and I said “Because she screwed up my radio settings!” or something to that effect. “And I can’t get it to turn off!”

Meanwhile, I am punching random buttons and have not altered the buzzing or the song that was playing, but I DID manage to reset the time. Go, me!

And Bob calmly says, “You know, the radio wasn’t on until you touched it.” And I have to stop and take out the other earplug and stare at the possessed radio. I feel for the remote for the radio under the bed and hit the lights so I can find the off button. [Are you getting this? My ALARM CLOCK has a remote!!! AAARGH!!] The music obediently turns off.

The buzzing is still audible, however, and I figure out it’s in the nightstand drawer. You guessed it, a random vibrator incident, the kind usually confined to the airport security line. I had recently relocated my sex toy stash from the sock drawer to the nightstand, and Voila! I was being rewarded for it.

I was still convinced Sissy turned it on somehow by knocking against the nightstand or something, but maybe it was really more random than that. Bob thinks I’m nuts. I think it’s Back to the Sock Drawer for those particular implements of joy. My crankiness evaporated and we both laughed at the utter slapstick absurdity of the whole event. What a way to start the day! In case you’re wondering, no, I couldn’t get back to sleep. Big surprise there, eh?

Just to round this story out: My son and his girlfriend house-and-animal-sat for us last weekend while we were on our Crappy Cruise [maybe more on that, later]. They slept in our bed.

I sincerely hope they didn’t look for the instructions for the radio, because they would have gotten a nasty (pun intended) surprise. But they probably did, because I’m fairly certain I left the alarm set for 4 a.m. to get us up for the airport. Noon is closer to when they roll out of the sack.

I feel a little bad for them because some things, once you’ve seen them, just can’t be un-seen. I’m guessing Mom’s dildo collection would fit that category. Ewwwwww!