Zzz

It's no secret that I love my sleep, and I need it. It seems a little dramatic to need sleep as much as I do, but it's a true thing, my friends. I need my sleep.

So when I get the chance to go to bed early, say, maybe 7:30 or 8:00, I'm willing to jump for it. Which is why, when my 85-year-old grandpa called me on Monday night at 7:15, I was all ready for bed. When I told him I think he just about choked. Of course, when I arrived at his house to help him garden (why are my grandparents up later than I, and why are they gardening? I don't know) some fifteen or twenty minutes later, he was surprised to see me in real clothes.

"You could have come over in your pajamas, we wouldn't care."

"Uh, your neighbors might mind having a hobo in the area."

He's deaf, so he didn't really hear what I said, but I'm pretty sure his neighbors would rather not see me wandering around in my pajamas. Though their immediate neighbors don't speak any English, so I guess even if they cared, they wouldn't be able to complain to my grandparents. It was the rest I was worried about.

So, I helped them hang some tomato plants, anchor a shepherd's crook, and spray some hibiscus plants for Japanese Beetles. (Would that be hibisci?) Then we sat down for a few minutes, my grandparents and I, and visited, until finally I got tired, and so did they. When I left at around 8:30 we were all planning on going straight to bed.

It's times like this that make me realize why it is that people see me as being such an old person. Then I think, "Yeah, but I need the sleep, so I guess I'll just not succumb to the wakeful peer pressure and sleep anyhow." That's usually when I leave whatever is going on and find a bed. Or some chairs to lay down on. (Lie down on?) The way I see it, He gives His beloved sleep, and I am well in that category. I just appreciate the gift a little more than the rest of you.