How about a revolution in convenience sleep?

Sleep - what a beautiful word. Say it. I bet you feel like a sleep now. 

There are few words as suggestive. If you say burger to me, I will want a burger. But then when I have had a burger, I’m ok for burgers for another while, say an hour or so. But if even I woke up from a Rip Van Winkle-esque sleep my first thought - after I wondered where all the robots came from - would be that I wouldn’t mind rolling over again for a bit of a sle-epilogue.

Our attitude to sleep changes over time. As a child, the need for sleep was primarily the enemy of being able to stay up late to watch Cheers, the finale of the original lizard series V and World Cups in time-zone unfriendly places.

Looking back over teenage diaries, once I’ve waded through the relentless, self-pitying and surprisingly hardline republican views, the main topics were food and sleep. There was so much sleep. I needed it though. Judging by the rest of my life, it was probably the incredible burden of being the most Misunderstood Child In The World coupled with the brain power required to Know It All.

After a brief hiatus in my twenties as king of the universe when sleep was for wimps and I’ll sleep when I die (this lasted a day) once again I consider sleep to be one of my main ambitions in life.

These days I find myself muttering “sleep-sleep-sleep” to myself. I find it best not to say it in airports in case I end up on a no-fly list. I’m probably on a no-fly list anyway, because of the two ‘OReganlets’.

Parental sleep deprivation is very common but there isn’t much point moaning and looking for sympathy. According to the informal but binding parenting regulations, you’re only entitled to complain to your co-parent about being tired if you can produce at least three weeks’ sleep and work records. Otherwise you’ll just get a standard “You think YOU’RE tired?!”

You won’t get any sympathy from parents of other children because other parents inexplicably insist on talking about their own lives.

So rather than moan, I’m going to suggest a solution to disrupted sleep: Disrupting sleep itself. I’m talking about convenience sleep.

Think about how convenience food has changed Ireland. There was a time when you brought sandwiches with you on every trip because petrol stations sold nothing but Castrol GTX or you could borrow one of the mechanic’s Polo Mints. Now you can complain to an Ombudsman if an Applegreen doesn’t have an adequate selection of olive bread.

Olives! It was the mid-90s before Ireland realised that olive oil wasn’t just for washing your hair.

Well how about a revolution in convenience sleep? It should be possible to rent cheap parent naptime at a variety of locations. Airbnb-style napping has already been mooted but it’s more for business people who need to recharge before going out and buying hedge-funds or driving synergies. I’m talking about napping for parents.

You could set it up anywhere: shopping centres, schools, churches, playgrounds. You just drop the children off with a qualified minder - or feckit, I’m desperate so any one at all who looks half-way sound will do. They’re in one room, shed, I don’t care, while you just doss down nearby for a half an hour.

There should be no 3G reception so you can’t put up photos of yourself relaxing or waste your naptime watching a video of 10 Celebrities Who Are Unrecognisable Now. It’s can be pretty basic accommodation but you don’t need much. Most parents would nap slumped on the back of a truck like they were exhausted prisoners of war about to be handed over to the Red Cross.

I’ve thought of a name: Snooze-agents. That’s so good I think I’ll take a nap to celebrate, sometime.