Greg and I wake up far too often during the night because one of the pets is throwing up. I’ve become accustomed to leaping out of bed at the slightest sound, trying to find the source of the noise, and shoving that source into the bathroom where there is a tile floor. But usually I’m too late. And sometimes Greg will pretend to be asleep during this whole affair so that he doesn’t have to be the one who cleans it up. (OK, sometimes I pretend to be asleep too. I admit it.)
Well, a couple nights ago, Greg apparently pretended to be asleep. And I really was asleep. The next morning, Greg came downstairs while I was eating breakfast. He slowly circled through the rooms.
“Well, everything looks OK,” he said.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Did you hear that noise at about 5 this morning?” Greg asked. “It kind of sounded like Winston was throwing up.”
“No, I didn’t hear anything,” I said. “I must have slept through it.”
“Well, it might not have been Winston throwing up,” Greg said. “It might have just been your breathing.”
“So my breathing sounds just like a vomiting cat?” I asked.
“It was a really quiet sound,” Greg said. “It was hard to tell.”