I talk in my sleep - always have. It's not one of those things that you readily admit when you are younger, but as you get older you realize that it's better than, for instance, walking or eating in your sleep. I talk mostly when I'm partially aroused (no, not in THAT way...) when Tom gets into bed after I've been asleep for a while or when something wakes me slightly. Anyway, apparently it's genetic. (Boys, if you ever read this apologies - I'm telling your secrets - but remember - you aren't sleepwalking or sleep eating.)
Ian has been talking in his sleep for quite a while now. Most of the time he talks late late at night when he's in the midst of a not so nice dream. He definitely has interesting dreams - we hear bits and pieces but not really anything clear. Well, tonight I hear something I've never heard before. Max was having a conversation with someone and the two of them were apparently deciding where to go next. His half of the conversation was a - let's get down first then we can figure out what to do next - kind of thing. It was clear as day. So, I walked across the hall and popped my head in thinking that there would be two kids awake, and everyone was camped. Not faking it - camped out pick up their hand nothing happens asleep. So I quietly shut the door, turned around, and then it hit me. Max was talking in his sleep. So, sorry son - it's all my fault and you too are cursed.