The sky was blue, the leaves are on fire.
After church (which is, for me, also work. Which is, for me, always a bit odd...) we spent some family time in the kitchen. My girls set off for Harrisonburg and we went outside for a bit.
Sunday afternoon naps are a rare luxury; I take one every chance I get. Today, I did a bit of work while the football game was on (go Steelers!) and began to doze off. Eventually, I gave up; put the laptop down and curled into a corner of the chair. The football game continued; the phone rang; the door slammed.
When I awoke, I had a quick flashback of Sunday afternoons in the late 70's and early 80's. The football game would be on and I'd be stretched out on the floor with one of the oversized pillows my folks kept for that very purpose. Every Sunday, it seemed, I'd sleep on the floor; I would have stayed up late watching Saturday Night Live, gotten up to sing in the church choir and ended up "exhausted".
(My teenaged self had no idea what exhaustion was...)
My husband believes in naps. When he takes one, he goes into the bedroom and closes the door.
Me, I take my naps on the couch or the chair. I don't do the floor much anymore; hardwood doesn't have the same allure as a nice, thick-pile shag. But I park myself in a noisy place, a central location where I can hear my people move in and out of the afternoon. Of course, it doesn't end up being much of a nap...but I think I appreciate and enjoy it more, because I'm essentially awake while I nap. And therefore more appreciative of the nap.
And that makes no sense at all.
But that's the truth.
Am I the only weird one who prefers napping in the midst of a bunch of noise?
|The afore-mentioned husband and me, before the napping began. |
It was a beautiful day.