I AM NINJA
My frail wife has once again wimped out at 9:30, due(she claims) to the fact that she has to get up at 6:00 to work. But I am ninja. I stay up until 12:30, mostly curing cancer but occasionally playing video games and writing things nonsensical. My morning is clear. And now my mission is bed.
I am ninja. I turn off the light outside our bedroom, the one that might awaken her if light filled the room. My unaware spouse sleeps calmly as I ease open the door. I will not wake her, for I am ninja. I greased this door's hinges with lithium grease earlier this week so it wouldn't squeak. No lie. That's how ninjas do.
The room fans whirs briskly, giving me a much-needed wall of sound as I creep into the bedroom noiselessly. The door to our bathroom is ajar, and the bathroom fan is on too. I carefully remove the toothpaste from the drawer. My non-ninja wife bought me a Sonicare toothbrush, but to a ninja this is just an added degree of difficulty. The closet door is barely open as the buzz of the toothbrush adds almost nothing to the sound of two fans.
It's like a ninja Christmas gift: the television is also on, no volume, but the flickering light means that the slight glow of the closet light is unnoticed as I finish brushing my teeth and carefully, soundlessly, return both toothbrush and toothpaste to the counter.
Most people don't realize how much noise clothing makes, a low rustling that could awaken her despite the two fans. I am careful even with buttons, which can make a slight whoosh when opened. Lowering my pants and removing my shirt slowly, a ninja makes no sound.
Our mattress is the expensive kind; not tempur-pedic, but a california king with ten thousand coils. At least that's what the sales guy said. Sometimes that can wake her, but I have trained myself to balance my body just so and slowly transfer my weight to the mattress in a manner not unlike a butterfly alighting on a branch.
But before I get into the bed, I first must lift the sheet. There is no need to lift the blanket, for that has been rolled onto her side. My side barely has any cover, and I have spent many nights with half of my body exposed to the cool room air her highness demands. The cool air is, perhaps, the reason why she takes all the blankets. No matter, I am ninja. There is only a small corner of sheet available, but I'll use it.
I reach for the sheet, whisper-quiet - and she startles bolt upright, glaring angrily at me.
Then slowly, slowly, rolls away and pulls the covers up to her chin.