This is what I’m dealing with, people.  STILL.  And you wonder why I’m half insane.

Me:  [sound asleep, 3:07 a.m.]  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh

Me:  [wide awake]  GOD.

N:  [silence]

Me:  zzzzzzzzzzzzz

Miss T:  WAHHHHHHHHH!

Me:  DAMMIT.  [get up, re-pacifier toddler]

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me:  SHUT.  UP.

N:  PSHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHHHh

Me:  GODDAMN.  ENOUGH.  [covering head with hot, uncomfortable pillow]

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me:  [seriously considering going outside in freezing temperatures to retrieve ear plugs that are still in the car from the gun range]

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me:  [lusting after ear plugs]

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me:  HUSBAND.  YOU ARE KILLING ME WITH THE WOOSHING.  ROLL OVER!  FOR THE LOVE.

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHhhhhhhh

Me:  [shove husband with foot, HARD]

N:  PSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Me:  [whimpering softly]

N:  [sits up]  What?  Who?