There are two kinds of people in the world: those who hit the snooze button on their alarm and those who do not. My husband is a snoozer. I am not.
When we moved in together I brought with me the alarm clock I'd had since seventh grade. It got me where I needed to go, on time, through junior high, high school, college, and veterinary school. All without ever having hit the snooze button. Not once. I honestly had no idea if it worked. I found out the first morning Sean had to go to work. It did indeed work. And, did you know, you can repeatedly hit the snooze button? Every nine minutes. Over and over and over. I didn't then, but I do now.
Sean sets the alarm for a half hour early so he can hit the snooze button at least twice, and up to four times and still get to work on time. I can now go back to sleep after the first snooze, but when the second one goes off, I turn off the alarm and hit him. Otherwise, I won't be able to sleep again.
This week, Samantha has been in our bed because she's been feverish. Turns out she has pneumonia. Antibiotics seem to be helping. She is now so big and spreads out so much that our little queen size bed is uncomfortable for all three of us. She prefers her daddy when she's sick, so I've been sleeping in Sammy's bed or on the couch.
Without me there to prod him, Sean has been late to work everyday this week. This morning, I found him asleep with the clock buried under a pillow. Apparently, it wouldn't quit going off.