Let it never be said that I have trouble falling asleep. Unless, of course, the speed at which I fall asleep and begin dreaming is trouble. Which it might be.
The other night, Mr. Burt and I were reading in bed as we’ve gotten into the habit of doing lately. As is also our habit, I got too sleepy to keep reading, though Mr. Burt wasn’t at all tired. (In fact, as it was Friday night and his habit on the weekends is to stay up till two or three in the morning, the night was only just beginning for him at 11 PM.) I put my book on the nightstand, set my glasses on top of it, took a drink of water, applied chapstick, turned off my lamp, and snuggled down under the covers. Next thing I knew, there were lips against mine and Mr. Burt was telling me good night, and I cast off the fingers of a dream to attempt to say my own goodnights. As he was sliding out of bed and telling me “sweet dreams” I began to drift off to sleep again.
But that didn’t stop me keeping on trying to talk.
“Sweet dreams when you get to them,” I said, or tried to; I have a vague memory of it coming out more like, “Sweedrea…gethem,” followed by a more concerted effort at coherence.
Which resulted in: “Don’t dream about Cousin It. What?”
At the words “Cousin It” I came fully awake, and began to laugh. Mr. Burt didn’t laugh, because he hadn’t caught what I’d said. He asked why, and it took me three tries for laughing to get out that I’d told him not to dream about Cousin It from the Addams Family. Which I haven’t watched lately. In fact I’m not sure if I’ve ever watched an episode of the Addams Family. Maybe I’ve sung the theme song lately, or something, but I laid awake for a good fifteen minutes after that, giggling and trying to figure out where the heck my brain came up with Cousin It while it was trying to fall asleep…
Last night was quite the opposite. Though it was not the weekend, Mr. Burt put up a bit of a fuss about not being tired enough to go to sleep. But when I turned the light out and began to scratch his back, we both konked out within a minute, and without a word of goodnight or a goodnight kiss, and slept soundly till the alarm went off at 7 this morning.
I think it’s safe to say neither one of us dreamt of Cousin It.
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