It's that "secret" occurrence again.
I fall into a coma that started out as a simple, innocent nap and come to a rude awakening of my mouth open and drool that seeped out into a miniature puddle of embarrassment.
And this isn't something that just started since I added working late hours into the mix of my collegiate life. This is something that has been a part of my life as far back as scheduled nap times. It seems to be a routine that has followed me in various places on various occasions.
In the beginning, it started out on the ever infamous mats in pre-school. No, they weren't taken out for a juvenile yoga army training. They were taken out for those times when we didn't appreciate the value of a nap. It was a surrender of our little bodies and burnt out energy to kid dreams of go-carts and Skittles. But shortly after those animated dreams I'd wake up to the "pool of drool". It was discovered by me, of course, and my pre-school teacher, as well. And I am sure she saw the pool of drool more than a nurse in a retirement home. So for the time being, I was socially accepted in the napping world.
It then graduated to a time where I would fall for those much needed dozes during my high school years. I'd come home from the stressful, hormonal enduring days and pass out on the recliner. Head back, neck bent like a surrealist painting by Salvador Dali and mouth propped open like an open bird feeder. Not only would I wake up to the saliva marsh but I'd also wake up to a flash of light and snickering from my older brother. He accumulated an entire album of me napping in the most awkward and embarrassing positions. And if he was crafty, I'm sure he would have made a nifty scrapbook to show any future boyfriends. It was official. I had entered the napping world at a young age and found myself in the outcast corner as a teenager.
But lately, I'll fall asleep fully clothed on my bed covered in piles of clean clothes that I justify as a "companion" instead of putting them away. And it seems to come in many forms. School induced, food induced, emotion induced, drunk induced (a popular favorite) and sick induced. My eye lids will succumb to the gravity of invisible, forceful weight and within the first 30 minutes my mouth will pop open like someone pushed a button designed to do just that. I open my eyes, close my mouth and wipe away the dream dribble as an accepted routine in my life.
I know I will never be able to escape the dead-to-the-world naps and their partner in crime, Dr. Drool. I know I will awaken to it when the kids are screaming and I desperately try to get some shut-eye. I know I will meet it face-to-face when I come home from a long day at work. This will inevitably continue to occur into my late 90s when my grandkids visit me and giggle quietly at Grandma Colleen passed out on the rose embroidered recliner. But as an experienced napper, I am okay with this and welcome it with open mouth.
