I fell off my unicycle

While there are endless reasons why I love being married, there's one that I never expected: listening to Mikey's late-night sleep talk.

My first experience with it was in Washington DC when he was praying, paused, and blessed the pioneers. I'm sure they appreciated his thoughtful concern even though they finished crossing the plains over 150 years ago.

The last few nights I've stayed up later than him to read or journal or some other such thing. I'm very familiar with the drifting-off-jerk that always comes as he's on the verge of falling to sleep, but a few nights ago Mikey's jerk was coupled with a gasp and both arms flinging in opposite directions. Startled, I asked him, "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I just fell off my unicycle."

I had a hard time stifling my giggle. Not even a bicycle. No, no. A unicycle.

Then last night he angrily said, "Stop doing that."

"Doing what?" I asked in reply.

"...with your body."

"Doing what with my body?"

"Making it shaped like a candle."

"WHAT?!"

That time I couldn't help but bust up. It's so classic. Then I woke him up to tell him and get him to pray (hoping that I'd get another gem like, "We thank thee for the knowledge we gain through surveys." or "Please bless this ship...")