I love the fact that when I got up last night to get some water, my husband's first thought was "Uh oh, she's sleepwalking. Wonder what she's up to? I better go make sure she doesn't hurt herself." Of course, I didn't know that was his thought process at the time. At the time, all I registered was that my very groggy husband was standing in the hall, watching me drink a glass of water, and I though "Huh, he must be sleep-walking."
Now, if we're being realistic, he had every reason to be suspicious. He knows that I have a slight, moderate, every-once-in-a-while tendency to sleep walk. And, okay fine, one time I did rip a doll to shreds in my sleep. Just once. Oh, and that other time I locked myself out of my dorm at the MTC. Oh, and the night I woke up trying to unlock my balcony door with every intention of jumping (No, not suicidal. I was about to take flight. Obviously). And then I guess there was the time I tried to climb my sister's office chair so I could leap from the desk to the bookshelf (too many video games, I guess). Anyway, the point is he wasn't totally crazy to be mildly concerned by my behavior. He was, on the other hand, totally adorable. Standing there with his scruffy face, eyes all squinty in the hallway, blond hair sticking up in that "I'm a sex machine" sort of way (sorry Mom, uhh, pretend I didn't say that. We just play a lot of scrabble together. Nothing else.) If I hadn't been so tired, and pretty sure he was sleep walking, I would have smooched his face right off. And then challenged him to a rousing game of backgammon, or something.
Aaaaaaand that's the end of my small but faithful group of followers. I knew I'd find a way to chase the last of you off eventually.
Now, if we're being realistic, he had every reason to be suspicious. He knows that I have a slight, moderate, every-once-in-a-while tendency to sleep walk. And, okay fine, one time I did rip a doll to shreds in my sleep. Just once. Oh, and that other time I locked myself out of my dorm at the MTC. Oh, and the night I woke up trying to unlock my balcony door with every intention of jumping (No, not suicidal. I was about to take flight. Obviously). And then I guess there was the time I tried to climb my sister's office chair so I could leap from the desk to the bookshelf (too many video games, I guess). Anyway, the point is he wasn't totally crazy to be mildly concerned by my behavior. He was, on the other hand, totally adorable. Standing there with his scruffy face, eyes all squinty in the hallway, blond hair sticking up in that "I'm a sex machine" sort of way (sorry Mom, uhh, pretend I didn't say that. We just play a lot of scrabble together. Nothing else.) If I hadn't been so tired, and pretty sure he was sleep walking, I would have smooched his face right off. And then challenged him to a rousing game of backgammon, or something.
Aaaaaaand that's the end of my small but faithful group of followers. I knew I'd find a way to chase the last of you off eventually.
1 comment:
You think you can get rid of us that easily? I say thee "HA!" Desk to the bookcase? I blame "This American Life" over video games. It was a life-changing episode, though!
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