So, I'm tucked up in bed happily, dreaming dreams of chocolate cake and ice skating, and all those other pesky happy thoughts that sneak into my head, when i'm awoken by the stench of heavily cider'd breath. It is the boyfriend coming home, he slinks into bed, after a night of heavy drinking, and soon after starts snoring. I can't get back to sleep. Wearing nothing but a pair of ripped track-suit bottoms, I get out of bed and venture upstairs to get myself a glass of whatever's in the fridge. On my return to bed, i find him not only being sick but still snoring too, eyes fastened shut. Fast asleep. He starts to choke, panicking, for his safety and the safety of the already vomit covered matress I pick him up in my arms and carry him up the stairs to the bathroom, him drenching my upper half in cider and stomache acid as we go. I put him down by the toilet, where he wakes up and continues to be sick. I make sure he is okay and do what my instict tells me to - wake up mother. I ring her, she answers on the second ring.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. Fine" i explain the situation, and after she helpfully suggests a list of things to clean the matress with, things i unfortunately do not own, i put the phone down and go to find the next best thing. The only three things i can find; Coconut and Vanilla shampoo, a roll of toilet paper and a dish scourer. Lovely. I check on The Mister, put him in the bath and flick the shower on to get him clean, then go to try and salvage the matress. Before i'm nearly half done i hear him collapsing upstairs. I run up and find him half in, half out of the bath. I dry him, dress him in his warmest clothes, and put him on the couch. Blanket, duvet, sick bucket (aka empty tin of quality street). Done. I finish cleaning the matress and go lie on the floor next to the couch. I try to get to sleep again, and just as i am dozing off, i hear him coughing violently. I sit up. Choking again. I pat his back, and look confused. (i'm no paramedic). I think back to a theatre company who visited us in school all those years ago, and remember being told what to do when somebody drunk and vomiting is choking. Lie them on there side, arm over their shoulder, check their air-ways, and retrieve any pieces of vomit with fingers. Joy! Once he's settled again, i wash my hands and sit beside him till morning, making sure he doesn't choke. 7:30. No sleep, lecture at 9. I start making myself some toast when he awakes.
"Why are you being so loud? I'm trying to sleep!" he shouts peering over the top of the sofa. I look at him with tired angry eyes, grit my teeth, say nothing and continue to butter my toast.