This is what I live with

There is a brilliant segment on James Valentine’s afternoon show on 702 called This is what I live with. “We love our partner. We live with our partner. For richer or poorer, for better or worse and often despite some very peculiar habits. These are real life stories. People put up with the most extraordinary things and and they’re happy to talk about it on the radio” says the website.

Given that I am not the kind to phone into the radio, hell I’m not even the kind to phone the hairdresser, I’m instead going to complain right here about an issue I live with that is infinitely more difficult at this time of year.

I live with a man who is sports mad. He doesn’t actually play much any sport himself but he could be an Olympic gold medal sports watcher such is his prowess. This in itself is not a bad thing, the man works really hard and doesn’t get much “me time”, if watching a few hours of rugby on the couch on a Friday night or Saturday afternoon is his biggest flaw I am a lucky woman. But no, at this time of the year Saturday afternoons mean nothing to him other than an opportunity to go to Bunnings. It’s the nights that are the issue.

Mr Pencil is not the kind of man who normally goes to bed early. He only gets home from work after 7:00 and by the time dinner is eaten, stories are exchanged, Little Pencil has talked to him in minute detail about almost everything and he’s had some time to unwind, it’s getting close to midnight before he lies down. But not at this time of year. No, lately Mr Pencil has been getting into bed at around 9:00pm and then armed with his remote control the trouble begins.

Faced with the “delights” of the Tour De France, the Ashes and the British Open, Mr Pencil is in his happy place in a warm bed with the TV blaring and the dog at his feet. I have about a zillion sleeping issues and part of that is I find it really hard to fall asleep in the dark and in silence, so the TV on is not an issue for me. The problem is that the TV with a relaxing golf/cycling or cricket commentary acts as a mild sedative for Mr Pencil. This is our typical nightly exchange

Mr Pencil takes about 15 minutes to decide what sport to settle on

Mr Pencil makes weird, cute sleeping sounds

I try to change the channel

Mr Pencil wakes and sits up “I was just resting my eyes” he says a little too loudly

Weird, cute sleeping sounds emit from Mr Pencil

I switch on the lamp to try read

Mr Pencil grunts “do you need the light on?”

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Mr Pencil starts to change channels and reassess what sport he should be watching

I start to fall asleep to the sound of the TV

Suddenly there is no sound but the TV is still on.

I realise Mr Pencil has settled on cricket where there is clearly nothing to say

Weird, cute sleeping sounds emit from Mr Pencil

I try to change the channel

Mr Pencil wakes and sits up “I was just resting my eyes” he says a little too loudly

Weird, cute sleeping sounds emit from Mr Pencil

The next thing I know it’s morning and we’re both complaining about how tired we are. And then we repeat the same thing again the next night.

This is what I live with.

Anyone relate?