Noises in the Night

I’ve done this before. It’s not a new experience, or even a scary one for that matter.
I was simply taking a half-dozen teenagers with me up to the Hot Springs. Most of them would share my hotel room with me.
Again, not a problem. I am very accustomed to sharing my sleeping quarters with my kids, their cousins and even their friends.

But…
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was haunted by Drew’s comment a few months ago, on the night before I started my new job and he had come into my room to sleep with me, “Mom? Roll over the other way. You’re snoring.”

Apparently I’ve taken up snoring some time in the past year.

Very definitely not something I was proud of.

As is common for us on these excursions, I brought along Scattegories for us to play, and was prepared to watch the Food Network with the kids late into the night, watching cooking shows.

At 2 am, when a small woman with big hair came on, announcing with fake enthusiasm the topic for her show, we unanimously voted to turn off the TV and call it a night. There’s something fundamentally wrong about creating a dessert show centred around grapefruits.

As everyone settled into their pre-designated spots, (some on the bed, some on the floor) I decided I’d be the last one to fall asleep. That way, no one would hear my snoring, if in fact, I really do snore.

As I lay there, fully awake, but with my eyes closed, I heard Clint whispering. “Holy Crap. Listen to her. I’m never going to fall asleep with that noise. I didn’t know she snored that loud.”

I wasn’t even asleep. Is it possible to snore while still awake?
I was mortified.

I opened my eyes and clenched my teeth, hoping that if I kept my mouth closed, the snoring would cease.

Drew, in bed beside me, bumped me a few minutes later. “Mom? Roll over…”

Oh my goodness. How would I ever be able to get married again? Clearly I couldn’t.

All night long, I was aware of my breathing patterns. I woke myself up every half hour or so, wondering how many decibels my night noises were. I was sure I wasn’t going to fall into a deep sleep. My paranoia was keeping me alert.

I was wrong. I was in a coma-like slumber when Clint woke me up. Hovering over me in his plaid boxers, with both hands on my shoulders he was trying to shove me onto my stomach. “I can’t sleep, mom. You’re so loud. Try being on your stomach.”

Snoring is not a dignified nocturnal activity. One who snores is open to all manner of ridicule. I knew I was going to be subjected to the worst of it come breakfast time.
You’d think my age and willingness to share my room would factor in to their thought process. Not for a second.

I seriously considered sleeping in the closet the second night. Thank goodness everyone else was totally exhausted after spending the better part of the evening in the hot pools. They were all asleep long before I.

It was a non-issue this morning.

Although, on the drive home, Max quietly mentioned, “You’re gonna have to get a handle on the snoring thing mom, before we go to Europe…”