So. A few nights ago I was having a rough time sleeping. Occasionally I feel like I can HEAR everything. The people upstairs, the crickets outside, John breathing. It’s distracting and keeps me up. I don’t know why every so often it’s like I get super sonic night-time hearing. Anyway. So, the other night, I devised a plan. I went into the bathroom and got two cotton-balls…and stuck them in my ears. The problem: small ears, BIG cotton balls. They kept falling out and I think taking them out and putting them back in was way MORE distracting than all the noise I was hearing before. Miraculously, somewhere in the midst of all the commotion, I fell asleep. In the morning- one happy cotton ball was sitting sedentary on my pillow. I threw it away. Then I got scared. Where was the other one? It’s not in my ear. It’s not under the bed…or in the sheets. What if I ate it?? I couldn’t find it anywhere. Three days later, John and I are waking up. I’m in the bathroom, brushing my teeth, and John is walking around the bedroom. All of a sudden he stops, and says, “Erin. You know that cotton ball you’ve been looking for?” He walks into the bathroom and puts it on the plastic bin. IT WAS IN HIS POCKET. HIS PAJAMA PANTS POCKET. Sometime, in the middle of the night, when confronted with the question of the century: Wherever shall I put this cotton ball? I didn’t go for the bed-stand…or even the floor. No, I must of rolled over and PUT IT IN MY HUSBAND’S POCKET.
That’s weird.
Or maybe, your “husband” found the cotton ball in his sleep and wondered what to do with it… and thus the pocket was used?
dunnndummmdunnnn
I doubt, REBECCA, that that is what happened. Unfortunately, though, we may never know.