Second Helpings

Fun in the Bedroom

One of the things that concerns me whenever we go away is what the situation regarding sleeping arrangements will be. It's no major problem at home, even if it is annoying to have to switch rooms in the middle of the night when the brass band nose starts snortling. With two spare bedrooms, a camp bed and a comfortable sofa, there's always somewhere to escape the trumpeting.

Holidays however are a different matter. With a double room booked I know I am going to be confined and have to cope with the snoring one way or another. Very warm nights and comfortable loungers on the balcony is one solution, but a rare combination. Sleeping in the bath is a last resort.

If the bed is a double one at least there's the option of gentle (cough) prods and kicks to attempt to lessen the nightly concerto. However, when this fails the temptation to use a pillow to silence the offender forever is a difficult one to control.

Two single beds, usually with some piece of furniture in between, may save the snorer's life, but generally results in very little sleep for one of us. My arms, legs, knitting needles, umbrella and stilletos all prove too short to poke the ceiling raiser in the other bed and I daren't throw the shoes for fear of causing some damage. (to the shoes that is) So, I generally spend a restless night sweetly requesting in a rather loud voice that the offending orchestra symphony tone down by either turning over or blowing its nose. This generally gets me nowhere.

This last holiday proved to be a new experience. Two double beds with a set of drawers between them gave me a choice of the devil or the deep blue sea. Had I been accompanied by Robbie or other nameless fantasy characters the double bed would have won easily, snoring or no snoring. But sharing a bed with hubby isn't a new experience or one which floats my boat after all these years. The thought of having a double bed all to myself and making a big X in the middle was rather a novelty, so I opted for that arrangement, hoping against hope the sea air may put a stop to the familiar snoring.

The first thing I discovered was the light switches for the bedside lamps were fixed into the bed headboards. As we sat up reading in our respective double beds we realised every time either of us moved it resulted in the lights going out. I read a lot faster than hubby, so every time I turned a page and my shoulder moved slightly, out went the lights. Ultimately he ended up in a temper and I ended up in fits of giggles. Time to sleep.

I made my big X, slipped into mental erotic fantasy number five, but within a few minutes the rhythmic snoring and popping from the other bed put a stop to that and any hope of an undisturbed night. I tried several approaches during the week, including throwing grapes I'd smuggled from the dining room, but I conclude my aim in the dark isn't too good and I'm destined to spend any time we're away from home deprived of sleep and forced to listen to brass band sonatos in various keys.

Our five week trip in May could be a big problem in the sleep department and could possibly result in murder on the Queen Mary 2. All I can hope for is a massive lottery win so we can have seperate cabins on the ship and seperate rooms in any hotel accommodation we book. But then there's the added problem of me infecting myself with cold germs. I rather liked PlannerDan 's idea of having a seperate room from myself to avoid infection, but the way things are going we'd need to book so many rooms we'd all get lost trying to locate them.

It all gets very complicated, but for the moment there's nothing for it but to snuggle down under the duvet and pray for no more snow and a snore free night. I have no faith in either.

Oh, by the way. The photo in the last entry. I am indeed the child fourth from the right with her gloved hand on the snowball. Thanks to those who offered their thoughts and to those who guessed right in particular.