Naptime

I overheard a conversation the other day in WalMart.

"I love naps,"said one. "I can sleep for an hour or two and still sleep well when I go to bed."
"Not me," said the other. "If I snooze more than twenty minutes, I can't fall asleep for hours!"

Poor thing.  I am more like the first.  I can doze for an hour or two and still go to bed at midnight without lying awake.  I am a born sleeper.  It was inherited from my dad's side.  Mom's family only slept if they were gravely ill.

I love to nap on a  rainy afternoon.  I love to curl up with a quilt on a snowy day.

I love to take a quickie snooze in the parking lot at lunchtime.

There are days when I come home, pat the dog, hug Hubby, head for bed for an hour or so.

Power-napping isn't my thing.  One of my sons has been good at it since the day he was born, sleeping for fifteen, up for five or six hours.  The other is like me, move till he drops, sleep anywhere, get up and go to bed.

I love to sleep.  The floor, the bed, the recliner, the car.  I love the daydreams that lead to the nightdreams that keep my mind occupied while my body is at rest.

Picture a rainy Sunday...I pull on a nightshirt, tuck a sheet around my shoulders and a pillow beneath my head.  It takes mere minutes to begin to dream.  There is something special about the unconscious, or the subconscious, thought.  Is it who I am? Who I might be? Or only a flight of fantasy?

Sometimes I wake up discombobulated and a little grumpy. (A LITTLE GRUMPY? says Hubby. HAH!!  More like just plain MEAN!)) Sometimes I momentarily forget where I am, or WHO I am.  It takes a minute to recover. I'm OK.

My advice to you? Let me sleep.  If I am sitting up or on the floor, sweating or freezing, let me sleep.  When I get uncomfortable enough, I will wake up.