Seeking Sleeping Beauty

"The best thing about this business, is we can't guarantee a thing!" said the smiling the man as he took our money. 

We laughed as we left the Rainbow Health Food shop leaving a stream of incense from the warm inside to the brisk cold outside of Main Street in Wexford.

Thirty minutes earlier, we had walked into the shop, a family in need of a potion. My husband became sidetracked with the flavour teas and Cutiepie was fingering the new age dream catchers. I waited eagerly for the shopkeeper to finish attending to another customer.

When it was my turn, I explained that we were in search of a sleep remedy.  Describing restless nights, sleep walking and talking, and disturbances of every type, I had the shopkeeper's attention as DH returned to my side. Scanning his herbal homepathic treatments, the man deduced outloud that it was I who was looking to sleep better.

No, actually, I sleep well, it is DH who is being deprived of his sleep. Turning his attention to DH, the shopkeeper nodded in understanding.

But he didn't understand.

In the night, I am the one talking, walking, yelling, pushing, pulling and disturbing, and although my mind is on overload thanks to a life is full of stress, in all actuality, I'm not bothered about sleep.

On the other side of the bed, DH is. He is  desperate for a night of sleep without someone yelling about nonsense, digging beneath him, or sorting imaginary laundry in the same room.

So once we finally identified the patient, the shopkeeper handed me a herbal medicinal mixture that would give, as the label said, sleep relief.

The liquid cure is a rancid taste and putrid smell that fills the house. Now best known as Daddy's poison for mommy. With dedicated commitment, each night he infects my cranberry juice with thirty drops in all. After a chant and a swirl, the doctor instructs me to drink. Alright, no chanting, but I'm sure one night I heard a sinister chuckle.

Most nights I head to bed early and since this is really for his nocturnal benefit, I tuck in without a doubt that my medicine will appear before the sandman does. It does.

The first morning after, I awoke with a start, certain I had missed my morning alarm. After realising it was a Sunday, I made note of the hearty slumber from which I awoke.

Does it work? I don't know and I don't think I will ever know. Only DH knows. It has been five nights since we began my homepathic treatment and he has yet to admit to a moveless, soundless night.

For now, all I can report is that I'm sleeping sounder.  DH appears to be sleeping. Though, let us all remember, there's no guarantees.