Just as I was about to shut off my computer, Mr. Z walked into our room and said:
MR. Z: Dad?
ME: Mr. Z?! What are you doing up?!
MR. Z: Uh, I was just coming out to get a consizzer.
ME: [realizing that he was asleep] A what?!
MR. Z: A consizzer.
By now, we were both standing in the dark hallway, and he was headed toward the bathroom.
MR. Z: [leading him toward the toilet] Well, why don't you check over here.
He sat down and whizzed. When he was done, I helped him back to his room and said:
ME: So, how'd that consizzer work out for you?
MR. Z: Pretty good. Goodnight.
ME: Sleep tight.
His sleepwalking fucking freaks me out. Luckily, he's the happy-go-lucky, wandering-the-halls-making-up-words kind of sleepwalker and not the murder-your-parents in their sleep kind.
So far.
2 comments:
Love reading your blog. Nora mentioned it I came right over. I can sure see my grandchildren in your Mr. Z and Miss O. I even have a sleepwalking grandson. Count me in as a regular from now on!
Thanks, Annie, and welcome aboard! If you have any sleepwalking pointers, let me know. For now, I've taken to duct-taping Mr. Z into bed. It works for now, but when he starts growing body hair, I'm gonna need an alternate plan.
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