I have a black eye. I’m sure you know whose fault it is. As you may recall, I was opposed to bedroom television. I knew it was one of the leading causes of death, dismemberment, and black eyes every year.
Someone, who is not me, insists in keeping the remote in his hand while he snores. Usually at some point during the night the remote is wedged like a damn brick (DirecTV remotes weigh at least 2lbs.) between us. I always yank it out of the covers and put it on the night stand where it belongs for the love of gawd!
Thursday night something different occurred. I woke up and the covers were a most uncomfortable, untidy, mess. I gave them a good yank to straighten them out before I rolled over to go back to sleep. With the yank, the remote sprang from it’s hiding place in the covers and beaned me on the cheekbone.
I was displeased but I am an accomplished sleeper so I rolled over to continue my slumber. When I woke up I had a bruise under my eye. It’s not abuse but I feel quite certain that it is part of the conspiracy. My husband is embarrassed by something he didn’t do but is nonetheless his fault. Our friend, Stacy, observed laughing, “Nobody who knows you guys would think you hit her, her hitting you, now that’s a different story.”