Speaking of Sleeping Beauty

I have a little secret I’d like to confess. But please don’t tell anyone. Here goes. Sometimes I take afternoon naps. Not lengthy ones, mind you. Just long enough to feel refreshed.

I am not a loafer. I do not wile away the hours eating bonbons and watching “Oprah.” I am up at 5:30 every morning, and in a mad burst of energy, I workout, shower, carpool, clean the house, wash some laundry loads, homeschool two children, make a few phone calls, and so forth. That’s all before lunch. I pack a lot of punch into the first 7 hours of my day. Then I’m beat. So occasionally I will indulge myself in a little catnap while my boys are quietly doing their own things.

I told a friend about my secret, one day, and she went all “Judy Judgmental” on me. She was like, “Must be nice to have so much free time,” and “Wow- what a princess!” And so, not wanting to be judged, I hide my secret like a closet drinker.

Just today, I was pampering myself with one of these naps on our family room couch when I heard the doorbell ring. Willing the person to just GO AWAY, I ignored the bell. But before I could stop him, Little Squirt ran to open the door. “Mommy’s sleeping,” I heard him say, to my horror. Leaping up and quickly trying to smooth the pillow lines from my cheek, I headed to the door, calling, “I’m not sleeping!” I stopped suddenly when I saw who it was.

It was HER, one of my neighbors from down the street, The Woman Who Does Everything Better Than Everyone Else. The person by whom I’d least like to be caught taking a nap. This neighbor is the most competitive woman that I know. She doesn’t let any conversation go by without blatant braggadocio. Apparently, according to Her Perfectness, she runs a highly successful business, volunteers her time to many charities, isn’t ever cursed with dandelions on her lawn, raises Super Kids who are straight-A students and soccer stars and Prom Kings, and oh by-the-way is flying to Tahiti this spring, etc. She would never be caught dead taking a nap in the middle of the afternoon, I’m quite certain. But I have her beat on one thing; I am thinner. And I know it irritates the heck out of her.

She was at my home to ask for donations for endangered blunt-nosed lizards, or something. I wasn’t really listening. I was just mortified that I was caught red-handed catching forty winks. By her. But, I decided with resolution, I would not allow myself to feel less than adequate. She would not draw the mistaken conclusion that I am lazy. I would just have to fib.

“Did I wake you? Stressful day??” she queried patronizingly, false concern written on her over-done Mary Kayed face. “Uh, no,” I said. “I never take naps. That would just be slothful. Which I’m definitely not. I lead a very full and productive life.”

“I always wonder just what you stay-at-home mothers, do,” she went on, smugly. “You certainly must enjoy living a life of leisure. I, personally, would be terribly bored.” The woman was pure evil. I wanted to escort her and her two-piece Prada knock-off suit off my property on the double.

“I don’t lead a leisurely life. I am very busy homeschooling my two sons. There’s the Hydrologic Cycle thing we’re doing for science. And I'm writing a novel. And I'm working on a secret project for the government. But I’m not allowed to talk about it.”

She looked at me skeptically, then began yammering on about how our planet would cease to exist in the next few years unless I made a $20 donation to the Endangered Blunt-Nosed Lizard Foundation and blah blah blah. I wanted her to leave and fast.

“I donated to the lizards yesterday. And to the tree frogs the day before. And these are not pillow lines on my face. They’re linear hives,” I said with conviction. “I have allergies.”

She cocked her head and looked at me suspiciously. Why was she not leaving yet??

“Well, I must run,” I said. “I have something on the stove. Dinner. For the local homeless shelter. I’ve been cooking all day and haven’t napped at all. Where would I find the time?”

She crossed her arms. She knew I was lying. She made no move to go.

I am not proud of what I said next, but I wanted her GONE. So I went in for the kill. “Guess what??" I announced, "I just lost five pounds. Effortlessly!” I smiled smugly.

It worked. With a “Humph!” my neighbor did an about-face in her Miu Miu knock-off heels, and clicked down my sidewalk. "Have a nice day!" I called. And with that, I went back to the couch. For my long deserved nap.