I talk in my sleep, a lot.
And yes, sometimes it’s random nonsense (“rainbow sack, double blueberries!” or “that briefcase is hilARious!”) but more often than not, it’s totally clear and concise. Mike usually can’t tell right away if I’m awake or not.
Mike always asks me if I remember what I said the next morning. Normally I wake up in the middle of one of our “conversations” and realize I’m asleep, (so I do remember) and apologize, because I’m bossy and stubborn, even when I’m unconscious.
Like the time I got up, convinced the dog was stuck under our bed (even though she sleeps in her crate in another room) sat down and started patting the floor, saying, “come on, puppy, you can do it!” while Mike was all WTF are you doing, dear?
“THE DOG IS TRAPPED! Why aren’t you helping me?! Can’t you hear her? COME HERE PUPPY! Ooohhhhh, I’m asleep? Oh, ok. Sorry.”
So last night, when Mike woke me up, because I was allegedly snoring, I was quick to prove him wrong.
“Babe, you’re snoring.”
“NOO. I’m not.”
“Umm, yeah you are, you woke me up.”
“No. I was totally silent. Zzzzzzzz.”
And while I do vaguely remember the brief conversation, I still maintain I wasn’t snoring. He must have dreampt it.
We’ll never know for sure.