Bill always stays up late Saturday night to watch Doug Miller.
Last Saturday was the day after our sewer line had been clogged, though. He'd been up late working with the plumber to find the rock that had fallen into our line when the new neighbors accidentally hit it. There wasn't any sewage in our basement, but I'd been washing and the wash water really made a mess. That happened Friday.
Saturday we'd spent all day washing towels and cleaning up the mess from the day before, and we were both exhausted. I went to bed at 7:30 and told Bill not to watch Doug Miller just this once. His face was lined with fatigue, but he wanted to unwind in front of the TV for awhile.
I just collapsed. I woke up in the night and he hadn't come to bed yet. I looked at the clock and it said 3:15. 3:15! I figured he'd fallen asleep watching TV, but he was awake staring at the tube when I went in the front room.
"Bill! What are you doing? It's 3:15 in the morning! You are too old to stay up all night watching TV! What's on, James Bond?" (He will watch the same James Bond show over and over). He looked up at me with a confused look on his face.
I gestured toward the wall clock and said, "It's 3 in the morning, you big doofus! What are you thinking? This is crazy!"
He just said, "what?"
And I glanced out the front door. I could see daylight. Did the sun come up that early in the morning?
Then I looked back at the clock and focused. It was hard without my glasses, but I figured out it said 9:15. I had a twilight zone moment while I figured out what was going on, then I looked at Bill for a second and turned around and walked back to bed.
Well, it's hard to read those digital clocks sometimes.
That's all he said, "what?" I did all the other talking.