Couch sleeping happens from time to time. Sometimes, I fall asleep watching a movie or TV, wake up and go to bed. Sometimes, when I want to have a nap, but don’t want to “really sleep”, I cozy up on the couch. Sometimes, when I can’t fall asleep at night, I get out of bed and go to the couch for a change of scenery. Regardless of how it happens the outcome is almost always the same: not a very good sleep and a good chance of a kink in the neck.
But for some reason, when Danny & I were growing up, it was a big, damn deal for us to sleep on the couch. I remember us hassling Mom for permission on a pretty regular basis.
Reluctantly, she would let us, knowing full well that would we stay up well past our bedtime watching Love Connection (don’t ask me why, but we loved that show). The only problem was, at that time, we only had one couch and Danny was older, taller and stronger than me.
I always got the chair.
Still, I always wanted to sleep on the couch, even with knowing that I would never actually sleep on the couch.
Maybe I was a light sleeper (or maybe I was a light sleeper because I was sleeping in a chair), but I can remember being woken up a few times while sleeping in the living room.
As you may or may not remember from this post, I’m somewhat of an active sleeper; I talk, I walk, I … do who knows what else, really. I guess this is a hereditary trait because I distinctly remember getting woken up by my brother talking in his sleep one night on the couch.
I remember Danny talking so loudly and clearly, that I thought I’d slept late and he was up and about already. I opened my eyes, it was pitch black and Danny was sleeping soundly beside me. I can’t remember all of what was said, but I got the impression that Danny was dreaming about playing football. He never played football.
I was confused as to what had woken me; I started considering that perhaps I’d dreamt the commotion. I was about to snuggle back into my blanket, when…
He practically yelled it and he was dead asleep.
It wasn’t always my brother making noises that woke me up. Once I remember being woken up by the sounds of non-so-distant, but very quiet, whimpering. Non-human whimpering. When I woke up enough for thought processes to be formed, I quickly caught on to what was happening.
On the foot of the couch; on my brother’s sleeping bag.
I think that may have been the last time we slept on the couch.
Merry Christmas!! And fear not, my friends, a post about my trip to Cuba will happen!