Once, when I went on holiday with my family to the Mercans.
We were enconsed in a tiny shitpiece of an apartment, in which my parents had to squeeze into a single bed, whereas my sister and I slept on opposite sofas in the lounge. Between the sofas was a coffee table, which over the course of the holiday would become a dumping ground for random paraphrenalia and tourist tat. From this point on, things get a little hazy, and family reiteration has to be treated as fact...

My sister awoke suddenly in the night, only to see me sitting on the edge of my allotted sofa, randomly arranging tat on the coffee table into mysterious formations.

Upon sensing her state of confused wakefulness, I paused, and stared at her. With a creaking voice, i asked her to "pass me that. From over there. They want it". Understandably perturbed by this cryptic line of authoritarian dialogue, she asked in a quavering voice: "get what? From where?". "That. From there", came the reply - cue random pointing - "they need it. Now". Silence. "GET ME THAT! FROM THERE! THEY WON'T WAIT ANY LONGER! NOW!!!". Sister runs screaming into my parents bedroom, and drags them into the lounge to see the madman with their own eyes.

By this time I was out of the front door and striding down the hotel hallway, swingly wildly at unseen enemies, and ranting about 'them'. In my birthday suit.

I was 9.

According to both my friends and family, I have not been sleepwalking since, though judging by the unexplained sniggers whenever the subject comes up, they are massive fucking liars.
( the_other_jeff_lebowski Croutons on my tits, Thu 23 Aug 2007, 13:23, Reply)