This morning hubby woke me up with a kiss. Is that not the best thing in the whole world? It is like being armed against whatever the world dishes out, because no matter how bad your day gets, the memory of that kiss lingers in the background.
The kiss was awesome, I don’t want to disparage the kiss, but what it symbolizes is even better. Sleep! It means I was sleeping away, blissfully unaware. It is somewhat rare for hubby to wake me up with a kiss, because usually something far less pleasant has already woken me up. I don’t always sleep soundly, I’m somewhat restless, and I have that mom’s ear that is always tuned into the slightest disturbance. So restful sleep is amazing, a great blessing, one I have learned not to take for granted.
Hubby and I recently pulled an all nighter and it reminded me that he and I are challenged just trying to pull an all dayer. To not have a full night of restful sleep is an appalling thing, a brutal assault on your mind and body, something best left to the young and foolish who don’t know any better. The old and wise sleep at night and try to catch a nap in the daytime, too.
Back to that kiss however, what a delightful fairytale, to wake up and to know, Ahh, I wasn’t dreaming, he’s real. Not only is he real, he was actually thinking of me in the hustle and bustle of getting ready to go to work. None of these half distracted, routine kisses either, not like two ships bumping into one another as we pass in the kitchen, but a deliberate and purposeful kiss. How romantic!
Am I not worse than a teen ager? Dreaming of fairytales, only to wake up and discover it’s actually real life. True, my fairytale is a bit bent and rather messy, it is certainly not a Disney tale, but it is recognizable just the same. True love’s kiss is a real thing in my world, as is the pure bliss of a good night’s sleep.