When Daylight Savings time comes and goes, my husband is always the one in charge of resetting the clocks. Partly it’s because he’s up earlier than I am on Sundays — it’s my one day where I am allowed to sleep in peace until 7:45 — and partly it’s that I’d be fine for days looking at wrong clocks and calculating the correct time.
I’m not quite sure what that says about me, but hey it works for us. But better yet, we don’t accidentally have two people change the time and really mess us up. Can you imagine the issues that would cause?
So Monday mornings are my day in the office. That means that I need to get up at 5:40am so I can be out the door by 6:15 or so. Since the alarm clock is on my husband’s side of the bed (long story behind that one, but suffice it to say that it involved a time in our lives when he woke up earlier than I did and the dual alarm clock was a sorry present from me to him), I just have to crawl into bed each night and magically the alarm is set for the right time.
I also have a clock on my side of the bed so that I can see what time it is when a wee one has a nightmare at 3am. That way I can feel truly sorry for myself. And know exactly how many minutes I’ve been awake staring at the ceiling trying to fall back to sleep.
Back to yesterday.
I vaguely heard my husband stirring and rolled over to look at my clock. 5:58am. AHHH! I demanded of my husband why he hadn’t set my alarm and did he understand that I was going to be late for work (ok by my definition since at 7am I’m usually the only one there) on my first day back to work after a two week vacation and what’s wrong with him?
He calmly explained that it was 4:58. Oh.
I grumbled about my clock being the only one in the whole house that he hadn’t reset and laid back down, trying to calm my racing heart and move some of that adrenaline out of my veins. I closed my eyes and tried really hard to go back to sleep.
It seemed as though only a few moment had passed when the alarm blared. I groaned and looked at the clock again. 5:14. I poked my husband and asked what this was. He said that he’d set my alarm for me.
FIVE. FOR. TY. I repeated slowly. The same time I get up every single Monday.
Oh, he responded and reset the alarm to the proper time. When questioned later, he explained that he’d reset it from 7:15 — my usual time — to 5:14. He couldn’t give me a good reason as to why he didn’t change the minutes part to the correct time though.
Shockingly, I didn’t manage to fall back asleep for the last twenty minutes and then walked around in a daze the rest of the day. And when I went to bed last night? I was shocked to see that it was almost midnight. Oh. Yeah. Really just 11pm.
My husband swore that he was going to change my clock to the correct time today. I haven’t checked yet, and I’m not saying anything to him until I go to bed tonight. Is that mean of me? No, mean of me would be if I were to reset his clock to the wrong time. Fortunately, my husband is a lucky man, and I wouldn’t do that to him.