Sunday, April 29, 2007

bad sleeps and bloodsuckas



My question for today is: can you be blamed for what you do in your sleep?

Keith woke up with the sniffles this morning. He says it's because all night long I kept rolling over and taking the doona with me, leaving him in the cold. It's not the first time either - apparently this happens most nights. I feel for his sinuses, but I can't take responsibility for the selfish personality of my sleep-self, can I? In my waking hours I am generally nice to Keith. Isn't that all a girl can do? I empathise with those Stillnox folk. At least I'm only stealing the doona, not making people out of bacon, or teaching Italian in the nude. I dreamed Keith was eaten by a shark last night and he dreamed we were posing as diplomats trying to get on a flight to South Africa.

Some time ago keith had a a dream in which I was really mean to him, making him sleep with his head up the other end of the bed. So vivid was the dream that it took him a day or two to forgive me.

Is this fair?

The magnificent Ivy is growing like a weed. Yesterday she fed every two hours. Now she's in a big car seat; eating (or wearing) real food, and sitting up (almost) on her own. Yesterday we went for a long walk through the bush at the end of our road. Keith and I both came home with leeches but Ivy was clean. Today she's been going wild on her new Jolly Jumper, kicking it like a tiny Riverdancer.

Check out the photo my uncle Bill sent of Mum and my aunt Jill hamming it up in their 60's backyard. They'd get arrested in Iran this week for scarves like that.

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Thanks for talking to me. I don't got cooties. Oh, except for when I got cooties.