The scene: Sam wakes up crying in the nursery down the hall.
The scene: Sam's parents wake up to the sound of Sam yelling.
Dara Lynn: Matt, can you go check on Sam?
Matt: (slightly slurred) Yeah. (pause) Who's he with?
Dara Lynn: (quickly recognizing this is somehow related to Matt's job in insurance) He's with State Farm.
Matt: (skeptical) How do you know that?
Dara Lynn: (trying not to shake the bed from laughing) Because he told me.
Matt: (pause) No, he didn't. Wait, are you talking about Sam or the other guy?
Dara Lynn: Other guy? (laughing now and shaking the bed)
Matt: (getting up and stumbling towards the door.) Hmph.
I had no idea that an additional benefit to marriage would be the unexpected entertainment of sleep-talking. A few weeks ago we had a very similar conversation about insurance that included Matt turning to me at 3am and very seriously asking if I was looking for liability or full-coverage. It doesn't get much better than late-night pillow talk about auto insurance.
We've also had a couple of sleep-talking instances that were less entertaining, however. One actually wasn't a conversation, but included Matt acting out a dream he was having that involved his slapping an imaginary horsefly on my forehead. I woke up with fireworks behind my eyes and Matt's palm flat against my face. I yelled loudly. The explanation? He was dream-canoeing and had seen a big horsefly and literally told himself (in his dream, mind you) to hit it as hard as he could. And so he did. On my face. At 2am. It was funny later.
There was also the night when Matt turned over and put his arm around me and said "So, where are you from?" in his most charming voice. I rolled over and said "What?" in my less charming voice. Then he woke up a bit and said that he'd been dreaming he was at a wedding and found himself hanging out with a bridesmaid that he knew wasn't me (much to his surprise, obviously). So, he tried to play it cool and pretend like he knew what was going on, while fishing for information about who the heck she was. I was less amused by this dream. I wanted to punch that imaginary bridesmaid in the face. Or maybe slap an imaginary horsefly on her forehead.
I'm eagerly awaiting the next round of sleep-talking entertainment. I have a sneaking suspicion it may involve homeowners insurance, or maybe even renters. I'm just hoping no more horseflies or hussy bridesmaids. I'll keep you posted.