The Sleepwalker

One of my family's exemplary abilities is the ability to sleep. I have often teased my dad for falling asleep at the drop of the hat-- during movies, conversation, etc. I also have inherited quite the knack for skillful sleeping, and it appears so has Brendan.

When Brendan sleeps, he is out. Gone. Dead to the world.

This week, Brendan woke up one evening only about an hour after he had gone to bed. He stumbled out of his room like a drunken man looking for a beer, and meandered towards the bathroom to turn on the light. Moments later he left the bathroom and, with glazed eyes, began looking around the living room.

Fear set in me. Is he going to pee in the living room? I hysterically scream at Chris to "Help Him!" Chris leaps up, also not wanting to clean up pee from the TV, and guides Brendan to the bathroom. I tell Chris to keep watching to make sure B gets it in the potty. I know who cleans the bathroom in this house, and I didn't want a pee-soaked floor.

Chris is laughing hysterically now as he describes Brendan nodding off while trying to pee. Chris notices that Brendan has a line of drool still hanging from the side of his mouth as well. Through a series of hilarious comments about Brendan keeping "the pee down," he finally finishes.

Dazedly, Brendan comes out and collapses on the couch; all the time I am telling him to go back to bed now. He looks at me behind a veil of sleep-filled eyes and wraps himself in a blanket on the couch and shuts his eyes.

I am so amused and finding it hard to not wake him up with my revelry at his expense. Ultimately, Chris guides the sleepwalker back to his room. The next morning, he had no memory, but we sure enjoyed ourselves.