INTERIOR. Darkened bedroom. Women enters room to find her husband sleeping on bed with their preschool-age daughter in next to him.
WOMAN: Scoot over, Bunny. (She scoots daughter more towards husband's side of bed and gets into bed.)
WOMAN: (tapping husband on shoulder) Turn over!
MAN: (grunts and turns over, resumes snoring)
Child turns perpendicular to woman, kicks her in ribs, then digs razor-sharp toe nails into her thigh.
WOMAN: Lie straight, Bunny. (She turns daughter parallel.)
WOMAN: (whisper-shouting husband's name) J.! You're snoring. Breathe through your nose!
MAN: Huh? What?
WOMAN: You're snoring.
MAN: No, I wasn't.
WOMAN: Yes. You were.
MAN: No, I wasn't. I wasn't even sleeping.
WOMAN: (sighs) J. It sounded like Weyerhauser was clear-cutting a forest in here.
MAN: Oh. Sorry. Okay, I'll stop.
WOMAN: Just tell yourself not to snore. (Inserts earplugs).
MAN: (resumes snoring even louder than before)
WOMAN: (removes earplugs, kicks husband in the gastrocnemius*) Go sleep in Bunny's bed!
MAN: (grumbling, marches off to preschooler's room)
Somewhere in the house, a toddler cries.
How does it play out in your house?
*Hey! AP Bio came in handy for something! Thanks, Mr. Ogren!