Messing with the brain

When I climbed back into the bed about 4.30 am this morning after giving Baby J her bottle, Packrat rolled over in his sleep and wrapped his arms round me. How nice, I thought, as I slowly drifted back to sleep. Only to have him whisper urgently into my ear. I strained, thinking perhaps he was trying to be frisky despite all other signs of being extremely unawake pointing away from it.

Packrat: It's very important. We have work to do.
Me (puzzled and wondering what weird ass dream he was having): What work?
Packrat: We have homework.
Me (Man! Is this a school dream? All ideas of frisk definitely jumping ship): Homework?
Packrat: Yes, sandwich homework.
Me (Obviously, the husband's subconscious is of the bizarro but determined to make full use of it): Sandwich homework? Peanut butter and jelly? Kaya? Or Nutella?
Packrat: All.
Me: We better start cracking them.
Packrat: Eggs.

Right. Obviously not a conversation worth pursuing. But it sure made me hungry and awake enough to chuckle at 5 in the morning.

Technorati Tags: twins, sleep