Wordsmith Wednesday

I married a somnambulist.

Depending on my frame of mind, this can be a source of immense frustration or divertissement.  Last night, after 2 hours of laboring to quiet my mind and fall asleep, I finally entered a hypnogogic state only to be awakened by the sudden illumination of the room.  The Husband was rummaging about the room in search of his computer...which was at his office...where he leaves it every day.

My first experience with Mr. Shaffer's bizarre behavior, occurred very soon after embarking on this journey we call "wedded bliss."  One morning, I walked out the front door to head to work and found Granny Gertrude's crocheted afghan lying on the porch.  Upon inquiry, I learned that it had been "infested with spiders" during the night, so he had, very logically, thrown it out the front door.

On several occasions, I found him on his knees searching frantically under the bed for Baby Grant, who happened to be safely and soundly sleeping in his crib.  I only rarely put the children to sleep under our bed...but it required a great deal of coaxing to assure him the little guy was fine.

My all-time favorite incident was the time I awakened to him standing on the bed examining the ceiling fan for...you guessed it...SPIDERS!  Apparently his latent arachnophobia produces an anti-soporific effect on him.

My least favorite experience was the night I found him picking at my face and head at 3am!  More spiders?  He really couldn't explain what he was looking for that time, but that was the day I declared that absolutely NO FIREARMS were to be stored in our domicile, especially under our bed!  Afterall, these "episodes" could simply be part of an elaborate, skulduggerous plot to gain a verdict of "not-guilty-by-reason-of-somnambulation."

But hey.  It could be worse, right?  At least his issue isn't enuresis!