Midnight Thunder

When Bill and I went to bed last night, he turned on his side and was sound asleep within 60 seconds.  I’d set the TV timer and was starting to doze off using the droning of the 10:00 news as white noise.  Unfortunately, sleep was not going to come easily because Bill’s snores quickly escalated from cute little snuffles to mid-level snorts to a cacophony of wall-rattling eardrum blasters.  He reached a crescendo with a gasping, snarfing inhalation followed by brief silence.

Since I couldn’t hear much on the TV, I decided to override the sleep setting and turn it off.  As I was reaching over for the remote on my bedside table, Bill suddenly asked, “Was that thunder?”

“No,” I whispered as I hit the OFF button.  “You were snoring.”

“No I wasn’t,” he mumbled.  “I’m awake so I couldn’t have been snoring.”

“Maybe your snoring woke you up?”

“No, I’ve been awake.  It was thunder,” he muttered, turning over and snuggling into his pillow.

Okey dokey,” I agreed softly as the nasal symphony started anew.  “It was thunder alright.  Nose Thunder!”


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