We, Narayans, are renowned nappers. We nap religiously, with grace and discipline. If there's one thing we take more seriously than napping, it has to be our will to feed ourselves and our neighbourhood and our community and mankind in general. Unfortunately, refusing to change my surname after marriage did not protect me from losing the Narayan-nap-blessing. I also proved to be incapable of feeding myself, let alone an entire community, but more on that later.
I used to be able to nap anywhere. And by anywhere, I mean - wedged in between my parents, on a random couch in a random home, with my eyes open in Chemistry class, with my mouth open on trains, with my head rested on the shoulder of a poor random passenger sitting next to me, under the shower, in the loo, you name it. The drool you saw on the sides of my mouth while I was talking to you? Ya, I napped a little while you were speaking. But ever since I started sharing a home with a fiendish non-napper, I have lost my ability to nap. And losing your ability to nap is a very sad thing. I still remember the days when I used to wake up by 7 a.m, looking forward to my hour long nap in the afternoon. Now my body just laughs at me when I try to nap, and says harsh things like, "You had your chance, loser. Thou shalt nap no more.".
On closer examination, I feel it's because I always napped well in warmer climates. I would nap in between my parents, covering my entire body with a blanket while they loudly protested because it was like 35 degrees (Celsius) outside. But after moving to a city which has one good day of summer in a year and a perpetual winter with cold and wind and rain and hail and all those wonderful things that The Husband loves, I have come to miss how sweaty I used to get under the blanket on a sultry Kerala afternoon. If I need to nap here, I need a warmer bed. And a warmer bed comes with the presence of my personal furnace a.k.a The Husband.
The Husband has the kind of body heat that can melt the ice cream I'm holding in the other room by just thinking about it. Sometimes he heats up leftover food by just looking at it. And when he gets a fever, I fry eggs on his forehead. He is so constantly warm that on some days, I'm forced to kick him away from me in my sleep. His body is a fully functioning furnace and that's one of the reasons why we always sleep with the windows open even when it's freezing outside. Literally freezing, with minus temperatures. And as if that wasn't weird enough, we also don't turn on the heating in our bedroom because then The husband would sweat so much that the whole of Scotland could be swallowed by the Tsunami of his salty sweat. Every single time The Bromance visits, he lets us know that our bedroom window is open because normal people don't leave their windows open when it's -2 degrees outside. We just shrug and meh to that.
So today when I wasn't feeling too well and needed that one nap that would make all my problems go away, my mind did a back-flip and mind-slapped me before saying, "Haaaahaaaaa, sucker! Good luck trying to fall asleep without your furnace by your side". And my furnace is too restless to do awesome things like napping because that would mean that he'd be wasting the time he could have used to do "fun" things like coding. If I don't get my nap today, I'm gonna turn up the heating in the bedroom and close the windows and let the salt-water Tsunami sweep over Scotland because Scotland needs to take one for the team. You better rise up to the occasion, Scotland! Mommy needs to nap.