I Needed to Know

Usually I don't wake up when J. comes upstairs to go to bed. But two nights ago, I did. Rather, I half woke up. I know that when he came into the room, I remembered a question that I had been meaning to ask him ... and so I asked him. And I know he said, "What?" like I was from another planet. So I asked him again, this time speaking slowly and deliberately as if to a small dumb child.

He laughed at me.

Men, don't ever laugh at your wives.

I got very angry with him. He wanted me to repeat the question again, but I refused. I knew he thought I was still half asleep and being incoherent -- and I most certainly was not! So I snarled at him, "Forget it!" and dramatically turned my back to him to go back to sleep.

By morning, I had forgotten all about it. Until J. cautiously brought it up.

Evidently, the "important" question that I needed him to answer was, "Did you get the bread from the store or from Hannah's?" Which utterly confused him. So the conversation went on, him trying to make sense of it and me getting angrier by the second. By the time I turned my back on him, he was questioning my mental state and the wisdom of going to sleep beside me. But all was well, I slept soundly and he slept safely ... and in the morning, we both got a good laugh out of it.