The Alarm That Expects You to Talk BackJuly 6, 2009 at 1:37 am | Posted in Around the House, Ramblings, The Nitty-Gritty | Leave a comment
Tags: Barton Cutter, daily living, disability, disability and marriage, disability and relationships
How many of you wake up better to a radio alarm clock than some annoying buzzer that somehow blends into your dream in such a way that makes perfect sense to you at the time? If you’re like me, radio alarms always work better as there’s nothing better than another human voice to bring you back from whatever adventures you had taken the night before.
I think this is why morning talk shows are so popular, yet have you ever noticed that much of the conversation on those shows are absolutely pointless, requiring absolutely no mental power to comprehend what’s going on? The producers obviously recognize that no one in their right mind will actually be paying keen attention to these conversations so early in the morning.
But 7:30am on a Sunday morning, when Megan comes across a question for me about where the comma belongs in an article she’s working on or ask me to list my entire schedule for the coming week, I have to somehow muster the brainpower as well as the muscle control to formulate and express an intelligible response before opening an eyelid.
I’m not saying that I would be unresponsive should an emergency arise, yet, at 7:30 on a Sunday morning when there are no situations that need to be dealt with immediately, I have no answers to these pressing questions. Such occurrences happen regularly in our household, and I have become increasingly entertained by them over the past months. Yet, none of these incidents were more entertaining than last week’s.
A few days prior, I had mentioned to Megan that perhaps the early mornings on a relaxing weekend are not the best time to ask me about such matters. So when Megan appeared with her laptop in hand, coiling cross-legged on her side of the bed and began with the infamous “So, what do think…” an amused smirk came across my face as I heard her question crack with a tinge of laughter.
She tried vehemently to get her question out, but every time she tried, she just broke down in laughter listening to herself doing the very thing that she once insisted that she could not possibly do.
As my eyes opened, I could do nothing but join her in her laughter, for I finally heard an alarm that was music to my ears.