» Sleepwalking

My mother had a trick to keep me from wetting the bed
She would wake me in the middle of the night, stand me in front of the toilet and tell me to go. I would go, she's put me back in bed and that would be that. It worked brilliantly, and I never once wet the bed.

I did, however, wet a pew.

It was a full catholic wedding ceremony, little four-year-old me dressed in a darling little tuxedo, sleeping like a lamb through the second half of the mass. Then it came time for everybody to stand up, so my dear mother picked me up, stood me up, and in a pavlovian reaction I fulfilled my part of our nightly ritual.

If you've ever seen a woman run out of a cathedral while holding a sleeping toddler in a tuxedo with his penis in his hands, it was me. If you've ever gotten a face full of pee from a toddler in a tuxedo being held by his mother as she runs past your pew, hello Aunt Linda!
(Fri 24th Aug 2007, 16:19, More)

» Sleepwalking

A conversation between my mother and my nine-year-old self at three in the morning.
M: Ferret, what are you doing?
RF: The ghosts.
M: What?
RF: The ghosts. Help me get them on the train.
M: Go to bed.
RF: I don't want them here and they can't find the train.

I was dreaming that the souls of the dead were wandering around our house in business suits, waiting for the train to arrive in the basement that would take them to the afterlife. I was chasing after them all over the house, trying to corral the briefcase-wielding wraiths onto the platform so they'd leave the house. Apparently I had actually been walking up and down the stairs mumbling for twenty minutes.
(Thu 23rd Aug 2007, 20:58, More)

» Sleepwalking

Hey, you know what's better than your dinky little island? Canada.
Everyone who's been there will agree. You're all rude savages, we're all well-educated and polite.

And neither I nor anybody I know had ever heard of there being a difference between Northern England and Southern England until I started posting on B3ta.
(Wed 29th Aug 2007, 18:53, More)