My arm was talking to me. A crushed nerve in my right arm has had a considerable effect on the quality of my sleep these past weeks. I shifted, only half-conscious, to a more comfortable position. My husband rolled over and, sensing my discomfort, took one of his pillows and positioned my arm on its plush surface. With a somnolent snuggle, he was back under before he’d even come fully awake. Sighing gratefully, I was able to sleep through the remainder of the predawn hours.
It occurred to me later as I thought of the incident, just how lucky I am. Even in his sleep, my knight in shining armor is slaying the dragon of sleeplessness for me. Marrying this man is the single best earthly decision I’ve ever made, and I’ve been pondering some of the things that make it so. He certainly isn’t a perfect husband, and I am most assuredly not a perfect wife. In fact, sometimes we downright suck at this.