Dozing by the Bull

I tuck the kids in with a hug,
To chase away the doodlebug.
We say our prayers and kiss goodnight,
I tiptoe out and flick the light.

I stumble to my blackened room,
As silent as a musky tomb,
And stealthily creep into bed,
While trying not to wake the dead.

Then, rolling over in the dark,
I'm trying hard to disembark.
I pull the blankets to my chin
And growl at my next of kin.

For he is dozing and content,
Immobilized like dry cement;
He's snoring like a power tool
And gargling on his own drool.

As gentle as I'm known to be,
Considering my family tree,
I contemplate a violent crime,
While watching slowly passing time.

I grunt and groan and toss and turn,
And pound the pillows, as I burn.
But nothing seems to stop the roar,
Not even blanket tug-of-war.

As daylight shows up all too soon,
I fall into a sleepless swoon.
The kids are up; the day's begun,
And I'm still crispy, overdone.

Tonight I'll try to get there first,
To sleep, for better or for worst,
I will not stay awake for him,
If I can get to REM.