Smothering No Longer Necessary

This, Bleaders, is what I used to want to do to Vader. You may think from previous posts that I'm not a fan of the breathing machine that has given him his nickname. In fact that couldn't be further from the truth. If the snoring wasn't bad enough, it was that he constantly quit breathing while he was sleeping. I found myself holding my breath, waiting for him to take a breath. It made me so crazy that I just wanted to put us both out of our misery. Though I may have wanted to take a pillow to him, I of course didn't. I did do a lot of beating him about the arms and torso in order to wake him up and get him breathing. Turns out after the first month of two of marriage I just didn't have the patience to shake him gently awake.

So, now I'm happy to report that with the help of the breathing machine we are able to sleep in peace. Both of us. He thought he was sleeping fine before. He just needed me to point out to him, or beat into him, that he slept like shit. Which I continue to do when he tells me he's too tired to put on the blessed machine, and my elbow doesn't take no for an answer.