What on God’s-earth has happened to Bloke’s adenoids? I find myself wedded to a tractor.
Right the way through our courtship. he emitted not a snort. there wasn’t a wheeze or a whistle in the early years of our marriage. When other women complained about their snoring bedfellows, I considered myself blessed.
But 18 months ago, he started and like a train approaching the platform, he’s got louder and louder.
Is it an age thing? Or was he a snorer all along, repressing the urge out of politeness in the same way men hold back other bodily noises? Whichever, it’s exhausting me. No sooner have I nodded off them I’m being woken up - by the source of the noise who, even more annoyingly, is deaf to his own racket, even though it’s nearer his ears than mine.
“A gentle, unromantic music of the nose,” Victorian novelist William Makepeace Thackeray called snoring. Talk about putting it mildly. Bloke has a whole repertoire and he delivers them in soundbites. There’s the thunderbolt at 50 paces, then silence, then the rasp of file on metal. A few more seconds of peace and the high-pitched whine of a singing kettle is followed by his impersonation of a mortally wounded cowboy mid death rattle. He could earn a fortune from Radio 4.
I’ve hunted for remedies. Sprays don’t work. He refuses to sleep in a nose clip. The only thing I’ve found has a 100 per cent success rate is holding his nose ‘til his survival reflex kicks in and he opens his mouth with a start. Half an hour later, though, he’s an ancient Land Rover ascending Winnat’s Pass.
He’s in denial - firstly, that he snores at all. Secondly, that alcohol makes him worse. “Please don’t have a beer tonight,” I’ll say as he’s about to pop the cap on a bottle of Bradfield Farmer’s Blonde. “You’ll sleep but I won’t...” Rubbish, he cries, throwing cap, caution - and his marriage if he did but realise it - to the wind.
When I wake him to get him to turn over, he gets cross. The fact that HE’S woken ME up first is lost on him. He will tell me, with total conviction, that he definitely was NOT snoring.
Twice now, he’s blamed the dog. So last night, I taped him with my phone. I have evidence.
There are two courses of action now open to me; I either play it back to him before he goes to sleep as cast iron proof, or I go down the Revenge Is Sweet route and wait until he’s fast-on, then play it at full volume in his right ear...