Sleep

The Bee is still sleeping.
He sleeps with such abandon, arms flung about him
a blanket, a duvet twisted over him
his breathing heavy, his eyelashes pressed tight
against his cheekbones

This respite, is rare.

In fact, it is the first time that we have not awoken together
which for me, is nice because
I can sit and ease into my morning, in silence
I can think, I can write, I can just be grumpy on my own.

Here is something I wrote yesterday, but didn't have time to post
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It has now become quite obvious that the Bee is a morning person
and I, unsurprisingly, am not
Its as though, as payback for me being the one who says
the words " lets get out of bed"
he will be as annoying as humanly possible
there is no escape, none.

I am the type of person who likes to ease into
my morning, quiet, calm, coffee
The Bee will hum, he will sing, he will tap his fingers, drum his feet,
he will talk back to the TV and
gosh does it do my head in.

But if he leaves the room, then I am lost.
*rolls eyes at self*
I am such a lamer.

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The Bee will pinch my face into weird faces while I am
trying to kiss him and laugh at me
The Bee will quack at the ducks when we go to the park

Me: Look babe, what bird is that?
He: Its a pygmy. (he means magpie)
Me: No its not! You're a pygmy!
He: Well you're just plain pig.

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Me: Look Bee, its a babbling brook!
He: The only thing I see, is a babbling bitch!