This morning my beloved husband and I woke up late because we stayed long at vespers last night. I went into Johnny’s room and changed and fed him. When I returned to the bedroom Scottie (my husband) was still in bed, staring at the ceiling in the midst of one of his daydreams. That’s not the part that bothers me because I know he’s just thinking about how many points to charge for his space-dwarf blasters in the Warhammer race he’s inventing. (Yes, my husband’s hobby is playing toy soldiers with other fully-grown men. No, I didn’t know that could happen, either.)
I didn’t truly yell at my well-loved lord and master, but I did pull off a very nice faux-yell.
“Roberts! Get UP!”
He jumped out of bed like his butt was on fire.
I fled from the room laughing while my adored spouse called threats after me to the effect that if I continued to impersonate his drill sergeants the consequences to me would be dire.
It’s helpful for military wives to know that they can put all that government training to good use every now and then. A man who involuntarily responds to a direct command, and thinks about it only afterward, is an automatic nominee for the Best Husband of Year Award.
Spread the good news.