Once again I find myself with a story to tell but when I go over it in my head it seems like I’m talking about a toddler that doesn’t actually exist.
Now bedtime in our house has been slowly turning into a theatre production some might even say Pantomime. It gets to that time in the evening where a normal couple would be settling down to watch a movie or getting ready for bed and doing cute stuff like snap chatting themselves brushing each others teeth. Then there’s us… Mr & Mrs Willetts starring in “The battle of the last one in bed”.
We usually go to bed at a reasonable hour, most of the week it’s once the football has finished or a repeat of Grand Designs make us upset that we can’t afford to build our dream house from scratch. We eagerly sit in anticipation of the final whistle of a midweek champions league game eyeing each other up out the corner of our eyes ( most would expect as newly weds this is for a certain reason you’d be wrong…). The final whistle blows and with out hesitation or a second glance we’re both up and out of the living room quicker than The Flash saving Iris from another evil speedster.
We race to the bedroom where there’s a few harsh pushes and shoves as we move around the bedroom trying to undress and get ready for bed. At this point distractions are key… any reminder to pull the curtains, grab a drink for bed are encouraged to slow down your opponent. Sabotage is the only way to out play the other here, it has been known for my Pajamas to be launched out the bedroom door or Mr Willetts mobile to magically disappear in the hope of slowing down the other from making it to the finish line first. We take one last look at each other with one last loving glance and we pounce into the bed like a lion chasing it’s last meal and we scream “I’m in bed first”.
Key things to point out here:
-you must be under the covers
-you can’t be fully dressed
And once your in, you’re in… there’s no going back. The idea of getting back out of bed once you’re settled in is unimaginable. That leave’s the other one of us in a state of despair. The loser left with the ultimate punishment… TURNING OFF THE BEDROOM LIGHT. Yup that’s right we aren’t wrapped up in that uncontrollable passion newly weds on the TV have for one and other – we are in fact so desperate to get into bed first so we aren’t left with all the “close down jobs” (hospitality talk in play there).
In our relationship there is nothing worse than being the person who has to set up the iPad and sound system to whichever catch up TV series we plan to fall asleep to and make it all the way to the bed in the dark without tripping over tomorrow a gym kit or stubbing their toe on the corner of the bed. Doing all whilst the victor lays in bed all snug and smug waiting for you to yelp the ‘F’ word as you collide with the edge of the dressing table.
Getting into bed first in our house is an art form, the World Cup of relationship competitions and I have to say that I lose almost every time and when I don’t lose Mr Willetts is so stubborn that I end up having to get out of bed to correct something he’s done wrong or to get something I forgot along the way.
They say in life Love will conquer all… but I struggle to see how love can conquer the hate I feel being the last to make it to the bed and that smug look on Mr Willetts face.
I must learn to just be quicker… I’ll let you know the next time I have a glorious win!
Mrs Willetts x