Nick is surly in the morning. I take a bit to wake up, but once I’m up I’m a morning person for at least two hours, whereas it seems to take him two hours to just wake up. This morning, for example, I woke up before the alarm and faded in and out until it went off. Then I hit the button and kinda scooted closer to Nick and reached a hand through the tangle of blankets he insists on sleeping in to touch him. He rolled over after a minute and held my hand. ‘Twas nice. Then he let go, so I rolled toward him and reached out to touch his face. He recoiled and glared at me, then flopped over to doze some more. He vaguely remembered, once he got up. Of course, I made sure he got up by putting the tea kettle on and letting it whistle for a while, with the bedroom door open across the hall.  I’m a nice wife.  See, I’m used to him being nice in the mornings, because when we were dating I’d sometimes visit him first thing in the morning and jump onto his bed and cuddle him awake.  In those far-distant days, he smiled to see me (I use “see me” loosely, he rarely opened his eyes), cuddled back, and was all around pleasant and cute in the mornings.  Now, I see the truth!  He . . . doesn’t like to see me in the mornings.  However, I can’t take it too deeply personal, because he doesn’t like to see the morning in the morning.  The sun earns a vicious glare before he rolls over, pointedly ignoring its beams.  Pillows are ungently applied to his face to block any errant light or sound that may attempt to wake him.  Blankets that served as warmth overnight suddenly become a burrow in which he hides from the evil Hunter Morning, and his relentless hounds Alarm Clock, Daylight, and Any And All Sounds.  Once he’s standing and has showered, he’s nice again, and then I get my version of a happy morning.  His version involves no morning whatsoever.
Every time I read about or see a happy couple, I feel happier with Nick. Like when I read about my friend Katie ‘s life,  she’s so happy and cute with Jesse that I can’t help but be happy with my husband.  Or last night, that couple I told you about – they were so gleeful together, it made me want to hang out with my husband and have as much fun as they obviously did.  And last night, we did have lots of fun!  Ginjy came over to visit, I made steak fajitas and they were AWESOME!, and then we played Scrabble, because we are grown ups and have board games to play with friends when they come over.  Except we didn’t keep score because it’s hard.  Each turn took forever, probably because none of us have played in ages and thinking of words was difficult.  By the end of the game I was pretty rummy and tired of waiting for my turn, so I started sneaking my last four letters onto the board: I made Raye, Jigz, and Amove, and I think I made Ip, too.  And I couldn’t stop giggling and reading my nonsense words aloud, then Nick caught my giggles and tried to reamove my extraneous letters from the board.  Ginjy just sat there and laughed.  Thus ended a nice night of nonsense, and I get triple word score for my alliteration just now.