Snooze Alarms

From approximately 4am on, the quality of my sleep is dictated by snooze alarms. There are three of them. One is Reno's. You may have heard it. It's the one that could stop traffic on the Panama Canal. Then there is mine, which is my favorite country music radio station. Then there is the Kobe alarm. That one is merely the sound of him getting up from his bed. It tells me I'd better beat feet or Whizzer (aka Kobe) will be drizzling a puddle by the front door. Sorry, I forgot to mention this blog may be graphic. It doesn't matter what time Kobe wakes up, I hear him.

Normally, I don't hear Reno's alarm. Mostly, I think, because my mind knows I don't have to respond to it. This morning, his mind didn't respond to it either. Isn't it funny the levels of consciousness (or unconsciousness) one experiences during the blare of an alarm clock. The first few times he hit snooze I took it in stride. It was probably the 9th or 10th time that I became aware of the thoughts in my head. It was that if I heard that freakin alarm one more time I'd tell him I was going to rip the alarm cord from the wall and tie it around.....well, you get my gist. Thankfully, during sleep, or the valiant attempt to sleep, the body doesn't leap up to do what the mind suggests. It wouldn't have been pretty.

We had a wonderful discussion about this series of events this morning over coffee. He maintains the blaring alarm intrusions were all part of a bad dream. And that he doesn't remember hitting the snooze button over and over. I distinctly remember wanting to alter his consciousness and told him next time I won't hold back. He may think I'm joking, but I think not.

Love means (so they say) never having to say I'm Sorry. It does not mean you never have to say "I'm Sorry I Didn't Hear My Alarm". I promised to help him with that. Isn't he a lucky guy?