I like to document such things properly.
Marcus talks in his sleep. It's been some of the best entertainment in almost three years of marriage. I first discovered this while sitting up in bed (as I am now, at 2 am). I always respond to him in hopes that he'll keep talking.
The following was my first encounter with conversing with a sleep talker.
Marcus: That's quite a jacket you've got there.
Me: (stifling laughter) What?
Marcus: That's quite a jacket you've got. (Reaches over and feels my arm) Well, you're not wearing a jacket at all.
There have been many other instances throughout the years. It doesn't happen so often that it's commonplace, but it happens often enough for there to be plenty to record.
Last night he spoke in French.
Marcus: Je vais vous?
Me: Beg pardon? (I'm getting good at responding, but that one caught me off guard)
Marcus: What was your autopsy?
Me: Gunshot wound.
The best part of the whole thing is right at the end when he resumes sleeping, there's always a nice, definitive snore.
Just a few minutes ago, he sat up in bed violently, and collided with my open laptop.
Marcus: Woooaaahhh. Woah.
Me: What was it? What happened?
Marcus: It was a huuuuuuge mouse. Like, bigger than Neville. We were fighting it, and then I was running away.
Me: Well, did you get away from it?
Marcus: No! It attacked me!
This conversation, I believe, was with mostly-awake Marcus. We'll see if he can remember it at all in the morning.
Okay, seeing as how it's 2:08 am, I'm going to try and sleep, even though I got my 2nd wind. Tomorrow we're painting the great room and kitchen and eating sushi at Master Joe's as my office Christmas party for lunch, so I'll need my strength. Plus, it's too cold to keep my arms out of the covers any longer.
No comments:
Post a Comment