Young at Heart

I woke at 4am after having my failing at uni dream, yet again. My only recurring dream. No flying, or sex dreams for me. I have never had a sex dream, ever. I got up and had a piss. I love the stillness of the early morning, the quiet, the solitude. And I am lucky enough to fall back to sleep immediately. Both Sam and I can do that. (I’ve never understood people who have trouble sleeping)

I woke again at 5am and tossed and turned and contemplated getting up. The 5am dark is sublime. Just that crack of light, a hint, a tatse.

I woke again at 7.20am and it was light by then and I got up. I tip-toed around because Sam was still asleep. I sat down on the bed gently and lent over to pick up my track pants, I must have squeezed my tummy and I did the biggest fart as my torso was parallel to the floor.

“BARRAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Lovely,” said Sam’s voice feebly from the other side of the bed.

It just came out, like it was beyond my control. Involuntary, is what I would have called it. Quite unexpected. I just leant over to collect my clothes from the bedroom floor and...

Straight across the bed to Sam.

“Just lovely,” is what comes out of Sam’s mouth next. I hear the doona being pulled over his head. A lot of rustling of cotton and what not.

I laughed, of course, farts are funny. Don’t exactly know why, but they are. Maybe, there is a childish part to all of us, way beyond adulthood. I hope so, anyway. Well, not just farts, of course, but somewhere deep inside a small part of us has to remain young at heart, marvelling at wonder.