The night started reasonably enough, my mind filled with pleasant images of how to look after your roses, and the modern twist on cottage gardens, thanks to the lovely Monty Don and an hour of “Gardener’s World.”
I cleaned my teeth, spilled the cat water, and got into bed, the sheets freshly changed and smelling of lavender, the room pleasantly cool and dark and I dropped off into a peaceful slumber, for all of about three hours…
Then it started.
My partner came to bed, disturbing Charlie who demonstrated her displeasure by vomiting copiously under the bed. So, I got up and cleaned it up, grovelling about on my hands and knees at 3.30a.m. trying not to retch myself as you really don’t want to be dealing with catsick at that time of morning.
Meanwhile, my partner had got himself tucked into bed, wrinkling the sheets on my side and was snoring merrily away. After about half an hour of sighing heavily and thumping my legs about I lost patience and whisper-shouted: “STOP SNORING!!”
Still asleep, he rolled over and there was blissful silence.
Then I got the phantom itches. Have you ever had those? A dreadful, creeping sensation that leaves you convinced that there is some sort of bug in the bed with you… a crawling, that started in my hair, down my ribcage and finished at my left shin, leaving me itchy and so absolutely certain I had a horde of spiderlings in my pyjamas that I had to get out of bed and go to the bathroom to check that my flowery (not glittery) pyjamas were not actually infested with some kind of alien mite.
Back to bed. My pyjamas then decided to act like a strait jacket, the top wrapping itself uncomfortably tightly around my chest, while the bottoms rolled up in such an engaging and amusing fashion they ended up as tourniquets around the tops of my thighs.
I gave up and got up, just as dawn’s tender fingers were painting the sky delicate shades of blush pink and apricot. Drawn irresistibly outside I sat down in the garden swing, watching the moths conclude the night’s partying chased by bats – “Come back! I didn’t get your number! Are you on NatureBook…?”
Soothed by the scent of petunias and the gentle trickle of the pond waterfall… I fell asleep.