Last night I was engaged in such important activities as REM sleep, when I was awakened by a strange sound. I opened my eyes to the strangest sight. Robyn was laying perfectly flat, but her arm was upright, like the neck of a swan. Her hand pecking at the blinds on the window near our bed.
She was very carefully opening the blinds, one by one. But she wasn't grabbing them. In fact, there was no evidence that she had any sort of opposable thumb. She was individually pushing the top of each blind so that it would turn horizontal and open a view to the outside. It should be noted, her eyes were closed and she wasn't looking at it. So I wasn't sure why she needed a view outside.
This is an exact replica of the scene. I have labeled it for those who don't understand good art. |
I've gotten pretty used to her talking in her sleep but she's normally immobile. I was really confused by this one. I simply asked, "What are you doing?"
She clearly thought that was a stupid question. "I'm opening the blinds."
I guess that was obvious, so I asked a better question, "Is there something you're trying to see?"
I stumped her on this one. "I don't know."
I figured I wasn't getting any information out of her and I was tired. So I just rolled over, "Carry on, then."
The amusing part came this morning. She woke me up before she left for work. I asked her if she remembered our conversation in the middle of the night. When she answered in the negative, I showed her how the bottom half of the blinds were open.
I think that when I tell her stories about her self she is more baffled then I am because she doesn't get to see it happen in real life. After my relating of the whole experience, she began to be astonished. That's when she promptly closed the blinds and said, "Now it's all better."
I just wish I could have seen the incredible thing that was outside last night. Perhaps I would have swan pecked the blinds as well, if I would have known of the awesomeness that was in store.