Most every night, before I get in to bed, I strap a shackle on to my left wrist.I’ve been doing this to myself for the last nine months. And no, it’s not what you think. Nothing kinky. Nothing erotic.

(Oh, how I wish it were that exciting.)

No, my vibrating alarm wrist watch is anything but sexy.

vibrating watch

My instrument of torture.

I wear it so that I can be quietly awakened at 5:30 am. That’s when my 15 year-old son needs to get up for high school. And I get up with him. And make him breakfast. Eggs, bacon, pancakes, hot chocolate. (I don’t mind. Honestly.)

But I need to get up without waking up my hard-working husband and the watch was the best thing I could come up with.

Wearing the watch to bed for the first couple of months of school was okay. Really, no big deal. I grew accustomed to having my wrist come alive early in the morning. And I really appreciated the fact that it didn’t have any effect on the gentle snores of my husband.

But for the last month or so, I’ve been cringing every night when I fasten it. I really do feel like a prisoner, with the watch being my handcuff. And then, when I wake up in the middle of the night, with the rubber strap digging in to my wrist, or even with the watch face pressed hard against my cheek and leaving a round mark, I panic because I know in just a few short hours, I’m going to be buzzing.

And sometimes, when it goes off at 5:30, I’ll be in the middle of a dream. A really nice one where I’m lounging on a beach getting a massage and everything is peaceful. Then bam, the watch becomes an uninvited guest in the dream, incorporated as the sound of a ship horn or an annoying, whining child.

The good thing? That the watch’s days are numbered. There are only 18 days of school left.

So not counting the mornings my kid wakes up at his dad’s house, I only have ten more days of being shocked awake by my f#*cking watch. (No offense, Timex.)

Ten days. That’s nothing. I can do that.

And then I’ll have 79 days of a luxurious, un-shackled summer. The watch will be stashed in the kitchen junk drawer where it will be ignored until the end of August.

My youngest kid will graduate from high school in June of 2017. So I only have to wear the watch for five more years. By that time, with all of the buzzing I’ll have had to endure, it’ll be a wonder if I still use my vibrator.

My instrument of torture

My instrument of torture