The nocturnal ritual would usually keep to the same pattern. First, as I sprawled in bed and my nasal rumbles began to fill the room, my dear wife would make a gentle request that I change position. So I would mutter an apology and turn over. But to no avail, for the rolling thunder would only intensify.
Leo McKinstry suffering ,this is mildly amusing but its a shame a journalist doesn't know about therapies.
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