Last night, after getting Baby J to bed, my husband and I fell asleep with the television on. This is rare – usually he heads downstairs to hop on Second Life, his newest computer addiction.
When Baby J woke up at 1:30, I found myself in bed alone in the dark with the fan on (my husband needs the white noise and air motion while he sleeps – it drives me crazy!). I didn’t see the downstairs light on under the door, so I figured he must have just run down to the bathroom.
I feed Baby J and he still hasn’t come back upstairs, so now I’m getting worried. What if he collapsed? What if he slipped, fell, and knocked himself out? What if he left? (Why I would think this, I don’t know…irrational-middle-of-the-night fears appear from nowhere!)
So I head downstairs and there he is, on the computer, doing what he usually does (only in the dark). He got a good laugh out of how scared I was though…he is secretly an evil villain and not my superhero. 
Husbands are sneaky like that arent they?