Morning and night switch

Something happens when a Morning Person and a Night Owl have been married for a while. They begin to change places. Joe has taken to staying up later, but unfortunately I have not become a Morning Person. Oh, sure, I may be up early, but that doesn't necessarily mean my brain is engaged.

It used to be that I would go to bed chatting happily about various topics completely of no interest to Joe, who would show his support for his wife by snoring the minute he got in bed. It didn't take me long to figure out that night was not the best time to discuss important subjects:

Me: So, honey, I read that newlyweds can really benefit from having a mentor relationship with an older married couple. They can offer support, challenge, patience, and enthusiasm while guiding new couples to new levels of competence. What do you think?
Joe: Zzzkzkzkzzk.

But things have subtly changed. I have started going to sleep earlier than Joe on some occasions. When he comes to bed, he begins a conversation as if we were at the dinner table. Now, with Joe it is easy to tell when he is actually asleep. Loud snoring sounds can clearly be heard from his side of the bed, whereas I pretty much look (and sound) the same whether I'm asleep or just trying to get there. So to give him the benefit of the doubt, when he comes to bed maybe he thinks I really am awake and eager for conversation about vector fields and eigenvalues, when actually I am asleep and dreaming about a quiet pond and a deep vat of dark chocolate.

I was beginning to feel some annoyance that Joe seemed to be able to function now at both ends of the time spectrum, and I could function for about two hours in the middle of the day. But the other morning he said he thought he was losing his Morning Edge. I asked why.

"Well," he said, "I just tried to put the peanut butter in the freezer."

If it's any consolation to him, I'm sure it will be several decades, if ever, before I can coherently discuss eigenvalues -- at any time of the day.