this could be a problem

As geologists, Charlie and I have done a lot of camping.

We love to camp.

Over the years, we've heard that others typically do not like to camp directly alongside us. Because my husband, it would seem, snores when he sleeps. He snores loudly. To the point that he could easily wake up an entire campground and send both small and large animals scurrying in to the forest. So for those faithful veterans that have returned to the outdoors with us, we try not to be offended when they wait to see where we set up our tent and then set theirs a mile upwind.

Now, interestingly enough, Charlie's snoring doesn't bother me in the slightest. I find this fascinating considering the slightest sound that our children make during the night will cause me to stir. Just a few weeks ago, when I was under the influence of prescription strength sleeping medication, I jerked awake to rush in when my child was heaving over the side of their bed at 4 AM. Charlie, meanwhile, snored right through it.

Although we certainly have our ups and downs in our marriage, by and large we have an incredibly deep devotion to each other. Whenever I tell Charlie the things that I adore about him: his ability to make me laugh, the way that he cherishes our children, his commitment to our family, his incredible cooking skills; he will respond that he adores me because yada yada yada, and most importantly ... I am able to sleep through his snoring.

Where could I ever find another woman like you?

Suffice it to say, Charlie considers himself a very lucky man to have a wife by his side that doesn't try to suffocate him at night by putting a pillow over his face as he rattles art off the walls.

But what's the saying?

Nothing lasts forever?

Or perhaps, all good things must come to an end?

This morning, we were awoken early by Carolyn who was standing next to the bed with her arms tightly crossed against her chest. She was as scowling and as angry as a six-year-old girl could be. "MOM! DAD!" She nearly shouted. "I DID NOT SLEEP WELL AT! ALL! LAST NIGHT!"

"Oh, no, what happened, sweetheart?" I asked as I sat up to embrace her. Thinking that perhaps she had a bad dream or was feeling unwell, she stuck out her entire arm and a very accusatory finger at her father and said, "HE KEPT ME UP ALL NIGHT WITH THAT SNORING!"

Much like our triplets could sleep through each others crying when they were babies because that's what they were accustomed to, we'd been banking on the theory our children would have developed a tolerance - like I obviously have - to their father's nightly symphonics.

That's apparently not the case.

"Oh no ..." Charlie groaned when he learned that his daughter did not possess her mother's outstanding immunity. "What are we going to do about that?"

Carolyn crossed her arms again and bit her lip in thought.

Finally she concluded, "Well, either you can sleep outside in the car. Or ... you'll just have to stop breathing."