But I was also feeling the effects of the massive amount of pepper bacon I fried up as a midnight snack, so I chomped on a pile of TUMS and tried to go back to sleep. No go.
I staggered up, got a cup of coffee and attempted to face the day. collinsmom said, "Are you going to stay up?" I didn't know. I went downstairs and read my e-mail, then curled my too-big body up on the old too-small loveseat and tried to sleep. I got a wee bit cold.
There above me was an old, ratty afghan I saved when we cleared out my parents' home seven years ago (after my widowed father died). It's fragile, but precious. When I was a little boy and didn't feel well, my Mommy would wrap me up in this thing. It's a fragment of my childhood. Since it was draped over the back of the loveseat, I sleepily reached up and laid it over myself for a bit of warmth. And there I awoke, refreshed, two hours or so later, in an impossible position on the loveseat, but covered with -- well, I guess you could say, "my blankie."
At last, something to drive the bishop away. Thanks, Mother.