Never again

We were ahead of schedule... a rare thing on a Wednesday morning. He even nipped out and did the grocery shopping while one tackled the laundry. There were nefarious plans you see... in case you are wondering about all this domestic enthusiasm. As a special treat one offered to make pancakes stuffed with bacon for brunch, rather than His usual roll. It was an offer readily accepted as He loves pancakes done that way.

So while He was out one stripped the bed, tossed the sheets into the washing machine and generally went all domestic. He came home and fiddled around on the computer, while one cooked the chopped bacon to go into the pancakes as they were cooking. Happily scarfing them down he went to the bedroom, turned on the TV and waited while one cleaned up so we could make the bed together... King size beds are so much easier with two... one can barely lift his doona to put it in a cover, let alone flap it around to get any wrinkles out.

Finishing up one wandered in and there He was... Nestled in the unmade bed, fully clothed, hands neatly tucked under his chin like an angelic child and sound asleep. We are talking a full on carb coma (when you have a limited carb diet the stuff hits your system like a ton of bricks and you sleep like one of the damned) here... you could have driven a Mac truck along side of him and He wouldn't have flinched. He slept through the TV blaring, people coming and going from the house, the gates being slammed close, the neighbour's bloody dog barking incessantly, and all of this with the doors and windows wide open.

In the end one did the only thing possible... slipped in and closed the doors and turned down the TV.

Mid afternoon He comes wandering out and says we've missed our day together. Yes, yes we have. You should have woken me, He said in a mildly accusatory tone. Should have, but didn't as one figured He wouldn't be much use as company, fighting the nods like a junkie. So we settled for making the bed, which He crawled into and promptly fell back into sleep.

Right until the road works started up again at 9pm... 

Where upon He stumbled out muttering that they were inconsiderate arseholes and that he still had another hour and a half before he had to be up. Somewhat exasperated one pointed out that some of us were supposed to go to sleep with that noise. Still grumbling He went to check the noise pollution codes... something one is fairly sure the council doesn't give a flying monkeys about... while complaining bitterly about sleep interrupted as he shared his findings. At that point one smiled sweetly and pointed out that it was just as well He had been asleep since 11am.

So there you are... People always wonder what a day in the life of a slave looks like. Not quite the stuff of overactive fantasies is it? Though for the record one did manage to rearrange the meagre wardrobe space to make room for the new things.

And He is never getting bacon filled pancakes again...