Keeping It Real... My Husband Sleepwalks And It's Not Funny, So Don't Laugh!

Yes, this is my cross to bear. I have a husband that sleepwalks. This has been going on for roughly 20 to 25 years, so I'm beginning to feel like his damn nanny.



When this whole series of fiascos first began, we were at the lake house for the summer and had invited my best friend (the one who died a few years ago), her husband, and their son, who was the same age as my son, down for a week.

We gave Suze and her hubby the best of the three guestrooms, the boys slept in one, our daughter in another one, and we slept in our room. Supposedly.

Everyone slept with their doors closed because even back then it was a well known fact that Mr. Snoots rose before dawn, watching TV, and cooking bacon for the morning's breakfast. You know. Mr. Snoots went to bed before everyone else, at 8:30 PM, come hell or high water. He went to bed even before the children did. (So, sue me. It was summer for crying out loud!)

We would usually stay up late, sitting outside on the patio, drinking, telling stories, laughing, and watching the moonlight on the lake, while the children did whatever it is children do during summers at the lake house. So, not wanting to be awakened at dawn by Mr. Snoots, we each closed our door, often sticking a towel underneath for good measure.

This one particular morning, I was unable to sleep due to the pungent aroma of bacon cooking, so I gave up on sleep. I dressed and went out to greet the hubby along with the approaching daylight, in not so great a mood.

As I sat at the dining table reading the paper, Mr. Snoots came over and sat down with a rather troubled furrow on his brow. After listening to his screaming silence, I finally said "Okay. WHAT?" In hushed tones, he said "I think I sleepwalked into Frank and Susan's room last night, because that's where I woke up this morning at like 4:00 AM." All of the bedrooms had two double beds except for the room our daughter was sleeping in currently. Therefore, I nonchalantly asked, "So, what's your point?" "I think I went in and went to sleep in Susan's bed," he replied. Oh my! Then we both started giggling uncontrollably.

I told him he was probably just dreaming that, but he was insistent that it had happened and was clearly mortified by his actions. I told him to just forget about unless something was brought up later on.

Once everyone had gotten up and dressed, we all had breakfast together at the dining table. As we were all sitting there enjoying our wonderful breakfasts courtesy of Mr. Snoots, Susan began to relay her weird dream of the night before to us.

She said "I had the weirdest dream last night that Mr. Snooty came and slept in my bed with me." Good secret keeper and wife that I am, I completely burst into uncontrollable, hysterical laughter, which was greeted by quizzical glares from our lovely guests.

The Mr. was looking at me as if I was spawned from Hell, but I proceeded to spill the beans right then and there. I've never been much of a secret keeper, which is well known to all those who are close to me. I like things to be up front and *in your face*, so to speak. I'm just a lousy liar. Period.

Anyway, after their initial shock, we all had a huge laugh over it and it continued to be a great source of laughter throughout their stay. We jumped at any opportunity to joke about it over the remaining days, at poor Mr. Snoots' expense.

But, after that first night, I took to tying Mr. Snooty to the bedpost every night (at his request, okay?) hoping to nip his midnight ramblings in the bud. However, every morning when we got up, he was miraculously untied. Houdini himself would have found the task of escaping my knots daunting, but Mr. Snooty did not. Every night he was somehow able (in his sleepy stupor) to set himself free. After that, it was my life challenge to try and contain him.

It was just the beginning of many years of trying to keep him in bed at night, away from wandering into walls and other such things… like the street.

To be continued….