Somniloquy: A talking in sleep; the talking of one in a state of
somnipathy. (Thanks, Dad.)
Last night Peter and I had an interesting conversation. I was operating in that delusional and paranoid frame of mind that sometimes descends on mothers in the hours between midnight and four, and he was suffering the aftereffects of a season of politician-watching. But see for yourself.
Me, suddenly coming what I conceived to be wide-awake around 3:30 in the morning, and convinced I smelled burning plastic: Do you smell that hot smell?
Peter: mmmmumhumderdawiganBob Dole.
Me: What?
Peter, adopting a didactic tone and beginning to wave his hands: Well, the humterdumterdiga [I'm improvising here, but it was something like this] and the party chair is....
Me: You're asleep.
Peter, looking at me severely: I'm not asleep. See, what's going on is that both parties are trying for Bob Dole's gubernatorial seat.
Me: You are asleep. Do you smell anything hot?
Peter: No.
***
I (probably in my sleep) then went sniffing all over the house, and then we both relapsed into peaceful slumber.
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1 comment:
Ha! I love it! Makes me feel better. The other night I woke up with a sudden jolt convinced I smelled bleach permeating my room from outside it. I jumped out of bed and went sniffing around the house convinced Numi had bought bleach (we don't use it) and was cleaning my floors with it...turned out it was a dream smell. Numi, who was working, told me I was crazy and to go back to bed. I did, but opened my window just in case. I am pregnant after all.
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