As you know, Sam is, if not a sleepwalker, a sleep-acter-out-of-things. A few months back I woke up to find him sitting up on his knees in the middle of the bed.
me: Sam, what are you doing?
Oblivious to my query (or perhaps in response to it) he picked up his pillow and started beating the wall with it. I chose that moment to scoot as far over to my side of the bed as I could get.
Folks, if I'm ever found beaten to death with a pillow, as unlikely as that coroner's report might be, you know who the culprit is.