The price of a good nap

Zach really, really wants us to live in a foreign country someday. Really, really, really. Whenever it comes up, I generally give him one of my oh so expressive  looks and wryly comment that of course he does, he already speaks 5 languages, and if we moved anywhere, it would be because he had some sort of employment. Meanwhile I would get to wander about a strange country, trying to communicate with strangers in a sad version of charades. I suppose I could try to learn another language, but a wasted 3 years of high school french has left be a bit skeptical of my abilities. Zach is freakishly gifted at languages, and does not understand how anyone could take that many language classes and still know nothing. Occasionally he'll ask me a question about a french word and then looks at me in amazement when I irritably remind him how little french is actually in my head. As a special bonus, I would also get to try to convince employers that the stupid American with the foreign law degree really would be an asset and is well worth hiring and giving money to so that she can pay her student loans.

Recently Zach has begun to introduce an argument that could actually sway me. Apparently in many countries, it is customary to take a decent sized break in the afternoon to come home and unwind for a bit. In other words, they have a guaranteed nap time. And if we happened to live there, so would we.

Naps are a compelling incentive. I love my naps. Love them. It's a little harder to do in a studio when the bed is within 15ft of everything (including a less than cat like Zach), but even so I relish the times I can shut the blinds, put on some Schubert and sink into a pile of blankets and drift away from it all. The added advantage of being able to stretch out across the whole bed just makes it all the better.* I'll do almost anything for a good nap. I've put off studying, cleaning and even shopping in favor of a little extra sleep. I've taken naps in public places - yes I was one of those annoying people who would sleep in the halls at BYU. I've certainly taken naps in class, although those weren't exactly planned. So when Zach promises me nap time if I agree to move, I have to take that seriously.

It sounds to good to be true, but I think I've been willing to risk important things like grades and pride in favor of possible naps in the past and I've never regretted it. I think a move to a foreign country would be a price I'd be willing to pay for a guaranteed nap time. If he can figure out a way to get us someplace foreign, exotic and most importantly with a nap time, I think I just might be willing to go with him. Probably.

*Zach claims that I take up the whole bed regardless of whether or not he's in it. I find this a ridiculous accusation. I've seen him nap. He doesn't spread out at all. He sleeps like a straight wooden plank, he doesn't need any extra room. I on the other hand need the ability to stretch out and move around when I sleep. And yes, I suppose I do technically take up the space that is required by my needs, which is somewhat larger than the space plank man needs. But I do not sleep diagonally across the bed at night, so clearly I do adjust myself based upon his presence. It's not my fault he needs so little bed space.

He's just still a bit bitter about our honeymoon, when we slept on a king sized bed, and I would cuddle up with him, he would scoot over to get some space, and I would scoot right back up against him. By the time morning came he was hanging off the edge of the bed, with me wedged up tightly against him. The man clearly cannot accept that I, like nature, abhor a vacuum. Or romantically wanted to be close to him. Something like that.