And That's Why I'm Not Batman...

So, to happier thoughts.  This week has been, to quote Little Prince "Splattastic!"  Prince Daddy, as usual, has been the primary source, although Queen Mummy may have caused a splat of her own due to a combination of her famous (notorious) driving and a pheasant with suicidal intentions.

 

On Wednesday, Prince Daddy woke full of the joys and the delusions.  "I'm Batman" were his first, second, third etc. sentences of the day.  After the 37th declaration, I began to doubt the veracity of his claim.  Batman is known for being a little more discreet about being Batman.  Little Prince, also a non-believer began announcing the same.  Not wishing to be left out of the Spartacus situation which was brewing, after brushing my teeth, I leapt into the bedroom announcing "I'm Batman!"  Unfortunately, I fell over a towel, forgot to breathe and went Splat, toothbrush in hand. 

 

Batman AKA Prince Daddy, leapt into action, put me in the recovery position, and whispered lovingly into my ear "and that's why you're not Batman."  

 

So, the big question of Wednesday is how come I lose all muscle tone and cannot respond, yet wake STILL clutching my toothbrush like a life belt?

 

***

 

Saturday, again was very much Splat centric.  One thing people without Narcolepsy don't realise is how every aspect of your life can be affected.  As we don't yet have a shower, Prince Daddy has to be on hand to supervise me bathing as I tend to drift off to sleep and sink.  This is actually scarier than it sounds.  Earlier this year, a car backfiring gave me such a fright that I went Splat, sank and could actually feel myself breathing in water and starting to drown.  Unfortunately, the terror that goes with that experience caused me to be unable to respond and it's a vicious circle.  Had Prince Daddy not been on hand to fish me out and make me breathe, there would have been no more Blog!

 

Unfortunately, Prince Daddy's presence causes as many splats as it prevents.  Sitting on the toilet seat, next to the bath, I am a captive audience for his silly, offbeat and hilarious sense of humour.  And we all know what happens when I laugh.  The same thing as when I cry, scream, get overexcited or orgasm.  Yes, you read that right.  Orgasm.  Prince Daddy likes to joke that he's the only man in the world who sees it as a compliment when his wife falls asleep in the middle of sex!

 

So after a 3 splat bath (due to his humour gutter-brains) we walked into the town centre to take in the market.  Explaining Narcolepsy with Cataplexy to someone new is something I actually don't mind doing.  I'd rather people understood than passed judgement on me as "mental", "loopy", "drunk", "bipolar" etc.  All names I have been called, and all, obviously, little understood conditions.

 

Prince Daddy was on form however.  In a shop talking to C and R whom we have known in passing for some time, Prince Daddy thought the way to explain Narcolepsy was:

 

"And watch what happens when I do this-RAAARRRGGHHHH!!!!"

 

Guess what I did? Yup!  

 

In his defence, Prince Daddy says that there was a 2-beat-count in his head between "this" and the roar that followed. 

 

I have forgiven him though -after guilt tripping him into buying me chocolate.  If I took every Splat to heart, I'd spend far too much time in a mood and not nearly enough having fun.  Besides, he did make me a flask of tea (so I don't risk scalding myself) and set up the DVD with The King and I, one of my favourite hokey musicals of all time while he slept ready for his night shift.

 

Shaaaalll weee dance? tra-la-la?