I Was a Teenage Sleepwalker
When I was a kid, during my early junior high years, I went through a sleepwalking phase. I roamed the house at night. I did everyday tasks with varying degrees of success. I had extensive conversations with family members. I once bathed and got completely dressed without waking up. It worried my mother a lot because I was very difficult to wake up during these episodes.
One night during this phase, I got out of bed (whether I was truly awake or not, we are unsure) and went into the living room. The telephone rang, at which point my mother and I both answered the phone simultaneously, unbeknownst to either of us. My mother’s boyfriend was calling. The conversation then, went something like this:
My mother’s boyfriend finally admitted through raucous howling that he made the call and that I must indeed be safely inside the house. At that point, my mother let her boyfriend have what-for and there was a good deal of cursing involved. I hung up the phone and went back to bed.
I did not really appreciate the situation at the time. Now with the perspective of time and motherhood, I think that what he did was pretty unforgivable: to sit in silence and listen to a mother who is terrified for her sleepwalking child. But it’s also pretty quick-witted in a morbid kind of way.
That’s just funny.
One night during this phase, I got out of bed (whether I was truly awake or not, we are unsure) and went into the living room. The telephone rang, at which point my mother and I both answered the phone simultaneously, unbeknownst to either of us. My mother’s boyfriend was calling. The conversation then, went something like this:
Mother: “Hello”
Tamara: “Hello?”
Boyfriend: [silence ]
Mother: “Tammy?”
Tamara: “Yeah. Who is this?”
Boyfriend: [curious, slightly morose silence ]
Mother: “Oh MY GOD!”
Tamara: “Mother?”
Boyfriend: [more silence and internal giggling ]
Mother: “Oh MY GOD. Honey, where are you?”
Tamara: “In the living room. Where are you?”
Boyfriend: [even more silence ]
Mother: “Honey, I’m in my room. You’re asleep. You need to wake up and tell me where you are. Can you wake up? Wake UP!”
Tamara: “OK. I’m awake. I woke up when the phone rang and I answered it.”
Boyfriend: [muffled amusement through an almost (but not quite) guilt-ridden silence ]
Mother: “Oh dear GOD. Tammy listen to me. You’ve got to wake up. Where are you? Are you at a payphone? Where are you calling me from? Did you walk down to the 7-11? Please do NOT hang up! Oh dear GOD...”
Tamara: “I’m awake. I swear. I’m in the living room...”
Boyfriend: [unstoppable, merciless, somewhat evil laughter]
My mother’s boyfriend finally admitted through raucous howling that he made the call and that I must indeed be safely inside the house. At that point, my mother let her boyfriend have what-for and there was a good deal of cursing involved. I hung up the phone and went back to bed.
I did not really appreciate the situation at the time. Now with the perspective of time and motherhood, I think that what he did was pretty unforgivable: to sit in silence and listen to a mother who is terrified for her sleepwalking child. But it’s also pretty quick-witted in a morbid kind of way.
That’s just funny.
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