It is the middle of the night. I am awake because I accidentally spilled water in the bed. Yeah. I fell asleep with a cup of water on my lap and woke up suddenly with a wet arm. The duvet is wet. My wife is still asleep. She’s in the dry bit, thankfully, while I’m awake, hoping beyond hope that my natural body heat evaporates the water before she rolls over.
I don’t think this was the right option. She’ll definitely tell me in the morning. Waking her up to tell her I’ve wet the bed seemed like a good call at first, but she’s sound asleep and so far, unbothered. It would have been impossible to change the duvet without waking her up, and so my choices were a bit limited. I switched the lamp on, wondering if that might wake her up gently. It didn’t. It did give me opportunity to survey the flood, mop up what I could, which I did, straighten everything out, and then get back in, hoping for the best.
Thankfully, it was only a cupful, and even more thankfully, it was only water. And now I’m lying here, trying to work out exactly what I should have done.
These are the situations I wish I could talk about when people think I’m wise.
I guess my logic is that if she’s not currently woken up by it, she’s probably alright - and by morning (still five hours away) we’ll be home and dry, if you’ll pardon the pun.
Although, I now don’t know whether I’ll be able to go to sleep. The dampness is on top of the duvet, rather than underneath it, and I can’t really move without disturbing either the tented, drying arrangement or Sleeping Beauty over there, so I’m sort of sleepless. And I’m less than 50% sure I’ve taken the best course of action.
However, if I’m awake all night, ready to see the grey morning seep through the curtains, it will have been worth it if it was done out of love. I will tell her, even if she would have no clue. She might be cross; I’m ready for that.
I still feel sure there was a better solution…
No comments:
Post a Comment