Symphony of Snores

I spend a lot of time now, lying awake between the hours of 3:00 a.m. and 6:00 a.m. listening to my women sleep.

Carol. Lakota. Maka.

It's soothing to lie there listening to the breathing patterns, although the breathing patterns very often become snoring patterns. A snoring duet, if you will.

Lakota is a quiet sleeper. She purrs like a Mack truck but sleeps quietly. Very often she curls up next to me and right under my chin, purring away. I take great comfort in listening to her purr. Strongly for a while, then it begins to fade and finally, almost always, with a deep sigh she purrs no more. Sound asleep.

I get a lot from knowing how content she is to lie with us, and in being aware of her peacefulness as she coasts off to sleep with no cares in the world.

Carol is generally a quiet sleeper. When she snores it is in that gentle female way.

But occasionally she snores like a long haul trucker and those nights are rumblers. I had to push her awake and away just the other night because now that I am forced to lie on my back, she was facing me and snoring directly into my ear.

Maka wheezes, but in my mind it passes for little kitty snores. It's kind of cute.

The duet comes in when Carol is doing her truck driver impression, Maka is wheezing, and they are alternating - on the off beat, so to speak.

Carol lets loose, and as that rumble dies down, Maka wheezes. It cracks me up. It's like they are in sync, like they have practiced this performance and are putting on a show just for me.

It's amazing how often it happens, this timing thing.

In the interests of saving my marriage, I don't want to overdo it on the long haul trucker thing. Carol doesn't do that very often. Which is good because I like the subdued performances better; there is more balance, less overwhelming contrast, more subtle nuance.

Front row seat for a 3:00 a.m. performance.

I feel like a VIP.