Serenaded by Bobby Brown
My family attended our friends, Shelley and Kerry's annual Labour Day Bash yesterday. As usual, it was a lot of fun, filled with swimming, karaoke, catching up with old friends and lots of laughter.
My granddaughter, feeling brave, stood up and sang Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, which was of course, adorable. Everything is adorable when you're 4, even being off key.
My friends Shelley and Donna, can sing very well, they can belt it out with style, and charisma and stay on key. They did a great job of entertaining the masses yesterday. It was like being at an outdoor concert. In fact, most of the brave guests who ventured up to sing, performed well.
My husband, who over the years, has been dragged to karaoke because I enjoy it. It is not his favourite entertainment. Yesterday, he decided it was his turn to sing. He chose to sing Spread your wings by Queen. I love Queen, it is probably my all time favourite band. Freddie Mercury's voice was a power house of strength, it was smooth as silk, rich and he could hit the high notes without losing tone. His voice, was hard to emulate. My husband, has a deep voice, not quite so smooth. He started singing, or rather, talking with flair, the lyrics to this song. If you couldn't hear him, but could only see him, he was very convincing. He had stage presence, and he was passionate about his performance. It was a very unusual rendition. He felt positive, so I was happy for him. I didn't want to hear him sing with a microphone again, but I was happy he was so pleased with himself.
The night was winding up, my daughter and my grandchildren went home, Kerry built a fire in the back and the few that stayed enjoyed our evening.
I was tired, so I said my good byes, and made my way to my car. My husband decided to stay, so back to the party he went, and home I drove.
The past week of night sweats have really played it's toll on me with little to no sleep. I just wanted to crawl into my bed and sleep. I brushed my teeth, put my pajamas on and fell asleep. It was a deep blissful sleep, until I was awakened by knocking on the door. Arrrrrrr! I opened up the door, to let my husband in and I immediately made my way back to bed. He climbed in and began talking to me which, annoyed me. I snapped and asked him "Did I stay at the party tonight?" He said "No." "Exactly, so I don't want or need a play by play of what happend after I left!" He ignored me, blah blah blah. Getting angrier and being tired, I told him to shut up. He did...sort of.
He fell asleep before I did. A chorus of snoring, and mumbling and thrashing around on the bed ensued. I moved over onto the edge of my bed to avoid his arms and legs which were all over.
Aahhh, sleep found me once again, wonderful, deep sleep. I was dreaming I was falling, turns out it wasn't a dream. I hit the floor beside my bed and woke up with a hard crash. It took me a few seconds to process what had happened to me. I couldn't move, not from injury, I was encased like a sausage in our quilt. The only thing sticking out was my head and a few fingers from my left hand. I immediately began to panic. I really, really dislike the feeling of being restrained. I managed to get my hand out but I couldn't loosen the quilt enough to get out. I yelled at My husband to help me. He mumbled "OK, ok, and began singing Bobby Brown by Frank Zappa! All I could hear was
"Hey there, people I'm Bobby Brown.
They say I'm the cutest boy in town
My car is fast, my teeth are shiny
I tell all the girls they can kiss my heinie..."
Good grief, he had a captive audience, I couldn't move! The sad part was, he actually sounded good, his voice was deep and strong, the bastard!
That did it, I yelled at him again! This time he moved over to his other side and when he did, he unrolled the quilt enough to allow me to get out. I stood up and he was on my side of the bed, his ass on the edge, my edge! I realized at that point he pushed me off the bed! I shook him and proceeded to push him back to his spot.
It was 4:30 am. My thigh and shoulder hurt from where I fell, my husband continued to thrash around and mumble in his sleep and I, of course was wide awake. Bastard!
I contemplated suffocating him in his sleep. I didn't of course, only because it would be my luck to have a prison cell mate who sings in her sleep. This is the only reason my husband continues to draw breath.
My granddaughter, feeling brave, stood up and sang Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, which was of course, adorable. Everything is adorable when you're 4, even being off key.
My friends Shelley and Donna, can sing very well, they can belt it out with style, and charisma and stay on key. They did a great job of entertaining the masses yesterday. It was like being at an outdoor concert. In fact, most of the brave guests who ventured up to sing, performed well.
My husband, who over the years, has been dragged to karaoke because I enjoy it. It is not his favourite entertainment. Yesterday, he decided it was his turn to sing. He chose to sing Spread your wings by Queen. I love Queen, it is probably my all time favourite band. Freddie Mercury's voice was a power house of strength, it was smooth as silk, rich and he could hit the high notes without losing tone. His voice, was hard to emulate. My husband, has a deep voice, not quite so smooth. He started singing, or rather, talking with flair, the lyrics to this song. If you couldn't hear him, but could only see him, he was very convincing. He had stage presence, and he was passionate about his performance. It was a very unusual rendition. He felt positive, so I was happy for him. I didn't want to hear him sing with a microphone again, but I was happy he was so pleased with himself.
The night was winding up, my daughter and my grandchildren went home, Kerry built a fire in the back and the few that stayed enjoyed our evening.
I was tired, so I said my good byes, and made my way to my car. My husband decided to stay, so back to the party he went, and home I drove.
The past week of night sweats have really played it's toll on me with little to no sleep. I just wanted to crawl into my bed and sleep. I brushed my teeth, put my pajamas on and fell asleep. It was a deep blissful sleep, until I was awakened by knocking on the door. Arrrrrrr! I opened up the door, to let my husband in and I immediately made my way back to bed. He climbed in and began talking to me which, annoyed me. I snapped and asked him "Did I stay at the party tonight?" He said "No." "Exactly, so I don't want or need a play by play of what happend after I left!" He ignored me, blah blah blah. Getting angrier and being tired, I told him to shut up. He did...sort of.
He fell asleep before I did. A chorus of snoring, and mumbling and thrashing around on the bed ensued. I moved over onto the edge of my bed to avoid his arms and legs which were all over.
Aahhh, sleep found me once again, wonderful, deep sleep. I was dreaming I was falling, turns out it wasn't a dream. I hit the floor beside my bed and woke up with a hard crash. It took me a few seconds to process what had happened to me. I couldn't move, not from injury, I was encased like a sausage in our quilt. The only thing sticking out was my head and a few fingers from my left hand. I immediately began to panic. I really, really dislike the feeling of being restrained. I managed to get my hand out but I couldn't loosen the quilt enough to get out. I yelled at My husband to help me. He mumbled "OK, ok, and began singing Bobby Brown by Frank Zappa! All I could hear was
"Hey there, people I'm Bobby Brown.
They say I'm the cutest boy in town
My car is fast, my teeth are shiny
I tell all the girls they can kiss my heinie..."
Good grief, he had a captive audience, I couldn't move! The sad part was, he actually sounded good, his voice was deep and strong, the bastard!
That did it, I yelled at him again! This time he moved over to his other side and when he did, he unrolled the quilt enough to allow me to get out. I stood up and he was on my side of the bed, his ass on the edge, my edge! I realized at that point he pushed me off the bed! I shook him and proceeded to push him back to his spot.
It was 4:30 am. My thigh and shoulder hurt from where I fell, my husband continued to thrash around and mumble in his sleep and I, of course was wide awake. Bastard!
I contemplated suffocating him in his sleep. I didn't of course, only because it would be my luck to have a prison cell mate who sings in her sleep. This is the only reason my husband continues to draw breath.
Comments
Post a Comment