plugged up

I snore, so I got Sam some earplugs to wear. He'll put them in at night only to find them out in the morning, but we know they aren't falling out, because they'll be placed neatly, side by side on his nightstand. Apparently he can take them out in his sleep. He doesn't do it as much now that he knows about it, but they still fall out on their own sometimes. This morning I found one of his earplugs in the bed, so I tried to see if I could put it back in his ear without him noticing. As you can imagine, I was not very successful.

Clementine.

Tamsen leaves a bit earlier for work than I do, so she wakes me up and gives me a goodbye kiss before she goes. She usually says something goofy, too. This morning, she was singing, "Oh my darling, oh my darling, oh my daaaaaaarling Sam-u-el."

I got up enough to give her a kiss and tried to think of something clever I could say back. After a bit of thinking, I settled on, "Don't be lost and gone forever, blah blah blah, blah, blah blah blah." Not that clever, but it would do for first thing in the morning.

Except I didn't hear her respond. I opened my eyes and found that a full 20 minutes had passed since she left.

The sea monkey has my money OR Tales of sleep talkers

A while ago I came into our room and started talking with Sam, only to find that he wasn't really awake. But he'd been talking back. I didn't know if he was sleep talking or what, so I decided to test him.

Me: Are you awake?

Sam: Yes.

Me: No you're not, you're asleep.

Sam: I am not asleep.

Me: You are too.

Sam (defensively): I am not!

Me: Okay then...what's your middle name?

Sam (a little too quickly): Sam!

Me (laughing): Your name is Sam Sam?

Sam: Wait, no. I meant...

Me: Ha! You are asleep. I knew it!

At this point all the talking made him wake up and he was sulky all over again (this time legitimately so) for being accused of being asleep when he wasn't. One of my sisters talked in her sleep growing up, which was maddening because as I was getting ready for bed I'd ask her something like "did you set the alarm?" and she'd assure me that she had when she actually hadn't. I used to grill her too, asking her if she was actually awake of not, but she was quite convincing and could carry on whole conversations, so I was often taken in. Although, that's nothing compared to my other sister who somehow managed to answer her phone in her sleep and talk to her best friend for 15 minutes before she realized anything was amiss. It went something like this-

H: Hello?

A: Hey, were you asleep?

H: (groggily defensive, because she actually is asleep) No! I'm awake.

A: (confused) Oh. Okay. How was the beach trip?


H went on to tell her all about the ward beach trip before introducing the subject of tigers.


H: And then we were divided into groups and we were the tigers.

A: Wait, what? After you got back you were tigers?

H: What? No, the tigers turned into T-shirts.

A: The tigers were T-shirts?

H: The T-shirts were T-shirts!

A: What T-shirts?

It was at this point that my sister woke up to find herself in mid conversation with a phone in her hand, and she very legitimately asked "Wait, what T-shirts?"

Tuesday snooze day

The other morning I was awakened by what I thought was the sound of the garbage truck coming down our street (the garbage man comes on Tuesday). Sam later informed me that in my half-awake state I muttered "Oh. It's Tuesday" before going back to sleep. Unfortunately it was Wednesday and Sam stayed awake for hours trying to figure out what day it actually was.

Step on a crack.

Conversation between Tamsen and I after I accidentally and not on purpose pushed too hard on her back while she was laying in bed reading:

SAM: Sorry for breaking your back.
TAMSEN: Yeah, you may as well be out stepping on sidewalk cracks.
(pause)
SAM: You're not my mother.
TAMSEN: Thanks, P.D.

Old shoes.

Tamsen and I were laying in bed talking, when I felt a burp well up. (This happens, single people. Don't over-romanticize your dreams of married life by imagining a world devoid of bodily functions.) I let it out, and almost instantaneously saw an errant hair on my pillow, which I blew away. Poor Tamsen had her mouth open as I accidentally and not on purpose blew my burp into it.

"That tasted like old shoes full of pepperoni," she commented.

Sawing logs.

Tamsen came down with a cold yesterday, so she wasn't feeling so great. We did our best to pump her full of chemicals (cough drops, Nyquil, etc.), but she was still pretty stuffed up when we headed to bed. I should have thought about the potential consequences of that before falling asleep, but I was pretty tired, and thus just dropped off.

Around 4.30, I was woken up by what can best be described as the sound of someone shoving live weasels down a watery drain. Burble clonk snorfle. Morfin slobber chong. What the crap was that? I opened my eyes to see Tamsen sleeping blissfully on her back, emitting noises that could have woken the dead. It was hardly her fault, since her nose was all stuffed up, but holy cow already. Normally if I jostle her a bit, she rolls over, but after several attempts of bouncing up and down, picking up and dropping her pillow with her head on it, and running into her, nothing was working. I ended up abandoning ship and sleeping on our couch. I couldn't hear Tamsen anymore, but I ended up having to deal with our surprisingly loud clock all morning. Lovely.

Apparently Tamsen woke up a couple of times when I was pushing her around, but she assumed it was because I was snoring too loudly. Good grief.