Late Night Tea
*click* I'm blinded by the light. My world of blissful sleep has been rudely cut short. I like my sleep, which is strange because on the whole I don't remember much of it; the odd dream, of course, but, as is the way of sleep, nothing much about it is remembered.
'I can't sleep, I've got irritable legs' the missus says in a loud wake inducing voice.
'Ahh. I'll make a cuppa then' I say. I know better than to enquire about the 'irritable legs'. I flick my third of the duvet back (the other two thirds is owned by the alpha female of the house at all times), swing my un-irritable legs out of the bed and, on testing the floor with my feet, I open one watering eye then proceed to get up and head off to the kitchen.
I'm now fully half awake, filling the kettle and getting the tea things ready, but my mind is wandering as I stare out of the kitchen window at the blackness, just seeing my reflection staring back at me. 'Christ, I look rough, think I'll have a shave in the morning'. I'm thinking this and also I notice I have hair coming out of one of my ears. 'Bloody hell!' I think this out loudly and most thinking it out of my mouth gets a response from up stairs.
'What are you up to now? Can't even make a cuppa without waking the neighbourhood' she shouts.
'I have hair coming out of one of my ears' I reply. Again, I know better than to tell her she's shouting too!
The tea is poured and I've opened a new packet of stem ginger biscuits. As I begin the wander back upstairs to the bedroom, she's sat up in bed, not a hair out of place (I have never worked out just how women do this).
'Tea and biccys' I say with a sleepy smile.
'Christ, you will have to start wearing something to bed' she says. So much for a cheery smile and thank you for making the tea at this hour of the morning, I thought. Then she says;
'Why do men's bits have to be so odd looking, especially when naked?' Yet again I know better than to answer this. I place the tray on her lap and nip around the bed. I'm beginning to notice the cold and don't want her to see that I'm cold and start having another go at the little fella!
'Oi! Stop rocking the bed, I don't want this in my lap!' She flashes me a sharp stare as I get in and start to adjust my third of the bedding and then get myself comfy. Then 'OoooOOOOoooooo you're right. You do have hair coming out of your ears!' and then 'OooOOOoOOoOOoo. Your eyebrows are bushy. I can do something about it in the morning.'
'You are not going to do anything about anything in the morning,' I say in a deep manly voice. I should have known better than to say anything at this point.
'I don't want you looking like a mess, unruly hair everywhere. It's bad enough that I see you naked at this hour of the morning.' She has now started! I pick up my cup and a few stem gingers for dunking. 'And you can start right now by giving me those biscuits as you're on a diet.' she says.
'Since when was I EVER on a diet?' I say.
'Ever since NOW! You're getting out of shape, hairy, male and I won't live with an out-of-shape male.' she hisses.
'NO way! Not my stem gingers. One of the only pleasures I get, well apart from the dogs (GOD BLESS'UM) and Radio Two.' I make the simple, deliberate mistake of not including the beloved in the sentence so...
'And where do I fit in your life, then?' is her retort. I was waiting for it. I just sip my tea, quietly and then I say,
'Nice cuppa, innit.' She is waiting for my answer, so I then give it and, weighing up the problem, give a measured response. 'At the top, tinker. You will always be at the top of my pleasures list.' I lean over to give her a peck on the cheek.
'You b****rd!' she says and then 'I've been thinking.' Now at this time of the morning that's a really bad sign. Decorating is the favoured 'I've been thinking' thought but not this time. This time its 'the holiday'. So when I hear
'We haven't been away for a few years now, have we,' she was thinking with her voice. I say,
'We went camping in Cornwall only a few months ago,' all the time knowing she means abroad somewhere. Somewhere where they have 'nice' weather, 'predictable nice weather'. Somewhere where the sun shines for more than two hours a month and doesn't have a drought restriction order on, when the street is three foot under water - Britian's just amazing for that. You can have the wettest summer since records began and the local water company applies for a drought order, which bans hosepipes and the like. Oops I digress. So where would you like us to go?
I never expect the answer I get. I think it might be Italy or the South of France, but Belgium?! 'Christ, my foot's asleep. Do you mind if I join it? Belgium! I have never thought of Belgium as the hot spot of Europe. You go through Belgium to get to the sun, to get to your holiday if you live in Britian. It's just somewhere you never consider.' I was just dribbling all this out of my mouth when I got,
'Precisely why we should go,' she says!
I could not even begin to argue. As I began to think about it, it sort of made sense! We have never stopped in the place. 'OK ,but it better be sunny or you never hear the end of it' I say.
'Nice cuppa!' she says and then 'You can now have a stem ginger.' I take the biscuit and have a dunk of it in my tea.
'How's your irritable legs now?' I ask.
'It's still about them' she says whilst supping.
'Ahh,' I say. 'The sun's coming up.' The sky is turning a sort of light grey! Then she says,
'You'd better start to tidy your ear hair. It's quite long!'
A nice start to a new day then!