Coleman makes fun of me because I do some weird things in my sleep, like talking and laughing. Oh, and sometimes I sit up in my sleep and remain sleeping that way, which apparently is really scary to wake up to.
This morning, I was having a wonderful dream in which my sisters and I were visiting the house of some old high school acquaintances, which ended up being a crack house, resulting in us being chased by a murderer, and hiding in some parking garage. All of the spaces in the parking garage were reserved and marked, and just as I was pointing out the perfect place to hide, (my mom’s parking space), I woke up.
Coleman was walking through the doorway to our bedroom, carrying a cup of coffee for me. I, quickly coming to consciousness, realized that I was propped up on my right elbow, in the process of sitting up, pointing my left arm straight at him.
“What are you doing?” he asked me, as he set the coffee on the nightstand next to me.
“What? Nothing. Stretching,” I mumbled.
The cat jumped onto my stomach, knocking me back on my pillow.
“Huh? Were you pointing at me?”
“Nevermind,” I said.
“But, your finger was pointed–”
Yep. That convinced him.