Monday, 26 September 2011

Conversations with the dead

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My wonderful friend Bee has a freakin' funny husband, Mr L, who sleepwalks and talks. He has inspired some good giggling sessions as Bee recounts the night's activities. She recently went to Knysna and shared with me one of her night dramas.

Mr L gets up and walks to the drawers and starts to rumage through them. He then turns to Bee:
Mr L: "Where are they?"

Bee is still a little groggy from being woken up and has no idea what he is talking about.
Mr L: "Where are the bags? All the bags that we packed, where are they?"
Bee: "Are you even awake?"
Mr L: "Of course!"
At this point, Bee realises two things, 1) he is talking in his sleep and 2) he could kill her in his sleep and he wouldn't even know about it. Bee starts laughing at him and he doesn't like that.
Mr L: "why are you laughing at me?"
Bee: “Because I am sure that you are talking in your sleep and will not remember any of this tomorrow morning.”
Mr L: "Oh, okay."
He gets back into bed and "falls back to sleep".
Bee gives him a little prod and asks him if he is awake. With eyes closed and through a gentle snore, he answers:
"Yes"

Now, that is quite a calm story compared to the arguments that Mr H and I have in our sleep....

Mr H is snoring so I prod him in his nose
Mr H: Don't ever do that.
Me: You are snoring and it's irritating me
Mr H: You woke me up to tell me that? Deal with it.
I hit him again in the face. With my hand.
Mr H: I swear Shanté that I will roll over you.
Me: I can't sleep with you making all that noise
Mr H: What the hell do you want me to do about it?
Me: Stop breathing
Mr H: Ya, Shanté, I'll just do that.
Me: You're such a miserable git
Mr H: Whatever. Go to sleep
Me: Okay. I will show you that I will.
I promptly did indeed show him. I feel straight back to sleep, my hand poised on his face.

We were both half asleep through saying this by the way.

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