When the phone in our bedroom chirped, I opened one sleepy eye to check the time. Yep: 2:12 again.
Every night for months, at 2:12 am our phone emitted a sound like a choked cat.
Our phone ruled from the top shelf on the headboard of our bed in those days.
And generally my husband slept through it all.
But this night, as I was checking the time, he made a muffled growl and reached up for the phone.
I watched his arm snake upward. Then it lost its GPS settings and fell limply onto the phone which skittered off the shelf and onto my husband’s head with a solid ka-chunk.
“Oh, Honey,” I said. “Are you all right?”
He said, “Mmm..gr…..uhhhh” and started snoring again.
I did check for blood as I lifted the phone off his head.
I expected bruises in the morning. “Is your head OK?” I asked him just before he headed off for work.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
There are hard heads and there are heads harder than Mount Everest. Especially when it comes to 2:12 am choked cat wake-up calls.
