That’s not a toilet!

My second oldest, Tempest, has recently displayed tendencies towards sleepwalking.

Usually this occurs when she’s overly tired, or awakened by her roommate, Sprite.

A few days ago was no exception.

And its occurrence was of the utmost hilarity.

It’s roughly 11 PM, Sprite is moping in her bed about something, who knows what, and unfortunately awakened the sleepwalker.

I am standing at the opening of the bedroom hallway talking with Brent, and out she comes.

She barely looks around, and begins heading for the front door.

I catch her and guide her back to bed, “No, no, it’s bedtime. Your bed is this way.”

She abides, but piqued my interest when she returned to her room and closed the door.

Our girls do not want their door closed when their falling asleep.

Brent and I begin giggling, then he says, “I wonder if she thinks she’s in the bathroom.”

Nah, I thought.

Then a moment passes, and concern gets me flying down the hallway.

I opened the door and scan the room – not because its huge (it’s not), but because it’s so dark that I can’t see anything.

I finally catch a glimpse of a shadow to my left.

She’s standing in front of her clothes hamper.

I think, what on earth is she doing?

I walk over, put my hand on her arm and notice its position.

Her elbow was bent because she was literally trying to hoist herself up onto her dirty clothes.

I immediately say, “no, no, this isn’t the bathroom!”

I then guide her out of the room, one hand holding hers and the other on her back.

It was then I noticed her underwear were missing.

They were down around her ankles, so she was shuffling her feet to accommodate the restriction.

I am stifling all the laughter.

We make it to the bathroom and she just stands there.

I literally have to pick up 60lbs of dead, sleepwalking weight, and place it on the toilet seat.

She proceeds to potty.

I hand her toilet paper – and she just stares at it.

I reply, “clean yourself.”

She complies.

She stands up and about falls into the bathtub, luckily I catch her arm and re-steady her.

I guide her back to her bed and tell her to find her spot and I would tuck her in.

Ok, have you ever seen the clocks painting?

That’s what she looked like.

She literally just hung half off her bed.

I had to pick her up and just shy of toss her into her spot (the girls have bunk beds, so I was trying to keep from giving myself a concussion).

Finally, she was tucked back in.

I walked out of her room, looked at Brent and doubled over laughing.

It’s crazy over here at bedtime.

Absolutely insane.

Also, the following morning, she not absolutely no recollection of this event.

None, whatsoever.