Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Midnight Chat with the Wife

I tend to wake up in the middle of the night. I also tend to wake my spouse up in the middle of the night, usually (but not always) by accident. And when I do, Camille most often grumbles something about how I'm always waking her up, rolls over, and goes back to sleep.
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But sometimes she talks. And sometimes, when she does, the part of her brain that connects words and images is still asleep. And the messages she delivers, while never flagging in passion, make no kind of sense. I remember the first time it happened. She looked me dead in the eye and told me fervently about how I needed to finish the laundry for the stock market.
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It's happened any number of times, and I usually forget what she said. Until now. Because last night I grabbed the mini tape recorder on my nightstand. Here's what transpired ...
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INT. THE BEDROOM
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Camille snoozes under a mound of cats. Matt treks in, tries to slip under the covers without waking his wife. As at most things, he fails.
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Camille pushes herself up, stares intently at Matt.
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CAMILLE: What letter do I wear?
MATT: I ... What?
CAMILLE: What letter do I wear? An "R" or a "B?"
MATT: ... an "R."
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Camille nods, completely unimpressed.
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CAMILLE: And where should I go?

MATT: I don't know. The post office.
CAMILLE: No, that's not what I ... just never mind.
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Camille rolls over and goes to sleep. Matt reaches for his tape recorder.
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