Doug dreams about flaming turtles

I’ve taken to going to sleep about 10 p.m. and getting up about 4 a.m. That means Amy stays up later, feeds Sorenne a couple of more times, and apparently gets to listen to me babble in my sleep.

This is nothing new. I’ve given entire lectures in my sleep – and I’m just talking about with Amy, not classrooms.

I’ve written about the trauma of only having turtles as pets while growing up. And the recent story in the Baltimore Sun and the terrible response about how those tiny turtles are OK as long as little kids don’t put the entire turtle in their mouths apparently triggered some sort of response.

"I’m supposed to kill 6 of those f***ing flaming turtles"

Amy says she laughed, Doug started laughing, then said, "See, I’m wasting my resources when I’m not doing what I’m supposed to."

Amy, who likes to ask questions when I talk in my sleep, says,

"What are you supposed to be doing?"

"Keeping those f***ing new zealanders in line."

This probably had to do with the e-mails I was sending to New Zealanders Katie and Gary before I went to sleep. Or not.