I have always been a sleepwalker.
From the time I could toddle until now (the time I waddle), I have entertained friends and family with this ability. Mom told me she could always tell when I was asleep because I had glazed eyes. All she had to do was tell me to go to the bathroom and get back in bed, and I'd be snoring away in no time.
Then there was the time when I was in high school. I went to bed early, wearing only a baby-doll pajama top and underwear. Apparently, some time after I went to sleep we had a visit from the neighbor who lived behind us. Imagine his surprise when I came out of my bedroom to visit with him, sound asleep the entire time. I'm told I carried on quite a conversation, even though I looked like I was stoned.
And apparently the gene does not fall far from the chromosomal tree. Son, the father of Cutie, walked in circles in his room until he was told to go to the bathroom and get back in bed. The Girl talks in her sleep, and The Boy makes everyone's skin crawl with his amazing teeth-grinding abilities.
We are such a talented lot.
But wait! There's MORE!! The entertainment doesn't stop there, folks.
Along with my somnambulistic leanings comes an amusing ability to dream. And let me tell you this: I've had some doozies.
There was the time I watched The Lucy Show. Lucy and Viv were having a terrible time with mice in the house.
And you KNOW how I feel about mice.
During one scene, Lucy was in the bedroom trying to go to sleep. As she lay there, a mouse ran up one side of the bed, across it, and down the other side. Apparently that affected me greatly, because that same night I could have sworn there was a mouse running across MY bed the same way. I woke up screaming with my legs up in the air as high as I could reach them.
It wasn't pretty.
Hubster has suffered the slings and arrows of my dream life as well.
One night I remember dreaming about him cheating on me with another woman. The poor guy was sound asleep, and the next thing he knows I'm beating on him and screaming like a lunatic about something that never happened. And I do believe I stayed mad at him for a couple of days afterward. That taught him a thing or two.
Like what a nutzoid case he has for a wife.
Oh, there have been others as well. One of the more memorable ones has to do with me playing volleyball on the beach with a bunch of nuns in full habit, while Andy Griffith serenades us on the guitar. It was clear the music had a great effect on the way we played, causing us to win hands down.
Whoever "us" was. I'm a little blurry on that fact.
Others had to do with finding a bathroom at the local Christian College, a campground, in a closet, the swimming pool, or anywhere else on earth. I seem to be taken with the whole bathroom scene. Of course, there's never a working toilet in any of these dreams. But you'd be amazed what can be accomplished with just a sink or a hole in the ground.
Clearly I have issues that cannot be put to rest with mere blogging alone.
We won't go into the "naked" dreams, because they're just too ugly to even think about.
So now that I've bared my sleep life to the world, it's your turn. Leave me a comment or two about your nocturnal activities. C'mon, it can't be THAT bad.