The Twinkies

I like to watch decorating and renovation shows. We call these “house porn” because contractors always show up on time, no one goes over budget and everyone seems to be having a good time. Utter fantasy, as anyone who has every done any kind of renovation knows.

Our last renovation was a bathroom remodel. The bathtub started to rain into the kitchen and we felt that was a bad idea. Because 65 years ago builders cemented pipes into the floor we actually had to totally gut the room to get at the pipes to replace them. We were without a shower for about three weeks – scheduled for one – while this was going on. I spent a lot of time at the gym where women complimented me on still working out while I was pregnant, not realizing I was just there for the showers. Yes, this all happened while I was pregnant. The plumbers were less than competent; they screwed up everything. The pipe out from the toilet had to be redone, requiring a hole in the kitchen ceiling to get at it since the bathroom floor and tile had already been laid. They put the pipes the wrong distance apart on the sink. They didn’t put the tub fixtures on correctly, requiring going in through the wall in the hallway to fix. They were a disaster. Fortunately, the general contractor was great. The bathroom looks fantastic, and after much much much aggravation and delay, the plumbing all works. Worked.

On Valentine’s Day the bathtub started to rain into the kitchen again.

So, I like home renovation shows, but they really are just fantasy. House porn. Of course, what I really have been fantasizing about these past few months hasn’t been a kitchen redo or a themed guest room but a full night’s sleep. So…sleep porn.

She entered the softly lit room. The bed was turned down and the 300-thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets beckoned. The pillows were fluffed, the comforter down, and was that a chocolate on her pillow? The laundry was done, the room was clean, she had no worries, no responsibilities. There was a thick novel of no redeeming literary merit sitting on the bedside table. Should she read it? Should she wait until the next day, postponing the pleasure. Knowing that the next day was a lazy day with nothing planned other than sleeping in, she caressed the cover of the book but decided to wait. Wearing nothing but her favorite flannel nightgown and a pair of thick, cashmere socks she slipped between the covers and turned off the light. It was dark and quiet, without ever the faintest whisper of a sound. She sank into a deep sleep and slept without being disturbed for 9 hours. Ah…bliss.

This entry was posted on Wednesday, February 21st, 2007 at 6:10 pm and is filed under Sleep. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.