It may have not been a good idea to let my feet hit the floor this morning, but not because I got up on the wrong side of the bed. I lay here now writing this and wondering what lies ahead.
It’s allergy season and after tossing and turning with a sinus headache and my eyes itching so bad I wanted to claw them out I woke for the second time at three am. The first time was at one-thirty when H got up for a middle-of-the-night bathroom break. Don’t you just hate that? Especially when you are the one getting up?
Not quite back in the land of nod, I hear my phone go off with a text message. I didn’t reach over to look at it immediately thinking if if was something important from one of the kids they would call, not text. My Twitter notification sounds the same so I figured Twitter was the culprit keeping me awake in the wee hours of the morning.
Curiosity got the best of me though. I had to see for sure and now I’m glad I did.
Andrew! He was letting me know he had finished three out of four study guides for his music history class, was going to bed, and would I please call him at seven-fifteen to make sure he was up for his eight am math class.
He’s had a hard semester with a couple harder-than-he-thought-they-would-be classes. He sounded in better spirits or at least as better spirited as you can sound through texts. A mother can always tell you know!
Settling back down to get a few winks before the alarm went off it dawned on me Andrew had said three of four study guides were finished. Wait! What about the fourth? When would that one get done? Did he tell me earlier in the evening he had two to turn in or three? Where does that fourth one come into play?
He must know what he’s doing. He’s gotten this far! I have to sleep or I’ll be worthless tomorrow.
H got up an hour earlier than usual because he was planning on stopping in the woods on his way to work to listen for turkeys for about forty-five minutes.
Of course this wakes me up because I always get up with him. I stayed snuggled under the covers until the last minute and when I rolled over to his side of the bed as he was standing there and started to get up, he pushed me away from the edge of the bed and said, “Don’t get up on this side. Get up on your side. This is the wrong side of the bed for you.”
Now I wonder what he meant by that? Will the rest of my day be crazy? Will Andrew not get up on time or not have all his work finished afterall because that really will affect me? Will something bad happen? What does it mean to get up on the wrong side of the bed?
I’ll never know the answer because I obliged him and rolled back over to my side before letting my feet hit the floor.
So whatever happens today I can’t blame it on getting up on the wrong side of the bed.