The regular marriage vows cover a lot of ground. For better or for worse. In sickness and in health. For richer or for poorer.  

For my wedding, I was adamant that we stick with the original. None of this “I promise to forever be your Rock of Gibraltar.” You can feel OK sailing away from the Rock of Gibraltar if it starts acting crazy. “Til death do us part” leaves much less wiggle room.

This is all very important, because I walk in my sleep.

I’ve discovered that people are usually amused when you tell them that you walk in your sleep. “Oh, haha, that’s cute,” they say. “I used to walk in my sleep when I was five.”

However, it’s a different story when the lights go out and you’re sleeping in their room. “I heard about a guy who killed his roommate with a kitchen knife in his sleep. You wouldn’t do anything like that, right? Haha.”

“Right?”

For the record, I have never harmed anybody in my sleep. I have done the following terrifying things, though:

• Stood over my college roommate’s bed and stared at him
• Burst into a strange dorm room at midnight
• Yelled about a swarm spiders and bees at 2 a.m.

Before we got married, Deserae asked about my sleepwalking. I of course downplayed everything.

“Oh yeah, I mean I HAVE walked in my sleep, but it’s mostly just wandering around a little bit.”

“Really, because your brother told me how you used to scream, jump out of your bed and run across the room.”

“That’s probably because he left his light on all the time.”

“What about that time you took all of your sheets off the bed at school and carried them down the hallway?”

“I went through a phase when I sleptwalked a lot my freshman year, but I haven’t for a really long time.”

“How long?”

Nervous smile.

“How long?”

“Just marry me, it’ll be fine!”

She fell for it, and we exchanged airtight vows.

The next day, we started sharing a room and discovering interesting things about each other. For example, I did not realize that Deserae has such a complicated set of rules about toothbrush hygiene or clothes allowed in the bed.

“What are you doing?!”

“Sitting on the bed.”

“Not with your clothes on, you’re not!”

“Why not?”

“THEY WERE OUTSIDE!”

“Just for like five minutes.”

“You can wear them on top of the comforter only. Otherwise, you have to change into pajamas.”

“But those are probably even dirtier than these clothes.”

“Those are house germs.”

“Ummmm…it should be fine to just take a super quick nap in these clothes, though, right?”

Her head exploded.

I wasn’t the only one adjusting to new quirks. When I woke up one morning during our honeymoon, I opened my eyes to see Deserae staring at me.

“Do you have something you need to tell me?”

“What?”

“Last night, you were smoking a pretend cigarette.”

Last night, you were smoking a pretend cigarette.

“Haha, what?!”

“Yeah, you were sitting in bed, pretending to hold a cigarette in your hand, and you were just puffing away.”

“I guess I was sleepwalking?”

“I thought you didn’t really do that anymore.”

Nervous smile.

The first night we got home from our honeymoon, Deserae discovered the full extent of my sleepwalking. Exhausted from the long flight, we brought the suitcases upstairs, and Deserae set out her clothes on the floor in neat piles to be put away the next day. It is important here to know that I’d just learned Deserae HATES ironing. More than anything. She is very particular about keeping her clothes folded neatly so she never has to iron.

That night, I had the sort of half-awake dream that usually ends in a trip outside the bed. In my dream, Deserae and I were enjoying a pleasant boat trip on our honeymoon. Eventually, the wind kicked up, and waves started splashing onto the deck.

The only problem was that the deck of the ship was the floor of our bedroom, and Deserae’s clothes were getting soaked. I hopped out of bed to save them, which woke up Deserae just enough for her to half-open her eyes and wonder, “Is this a dream, or is Dustin really shoving balls of my clothes into a suitcase?”

The next morning, she stared me down with angry, sleepy eyes.

“What did you do with my clothes last night?”

“I thought they were going to get wet, so I put them in the suitcase.”

Why would they get wet?”

“Because our bedroom was a boat.”

I spent the day ironing Deserae’s wardrobe.

Once I settled into my new surroundings, I didn’t have many more bad sleepwalking episodes. Deserae would sometimes amuse herself by responding to me when I talked in my sleep, and I still walk around the room from time to time, but I haven’t done anything scary in a while.

The last big episode occurred a few months after we got married. One night, I popped awake in bed, sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that a giant spider had just crawled underneath our comforter.

Being the hero of a husband that I am, I sprang into action by scooping up the comforter and running to the bathroom. This woke up Deserae.

“Dustin, what are you doing?”

“Huh?!”

After blinking a few times, Deserae figured out what I was holding and what I was about to do with it.

“Oh, please don’t put that in the toilet!”

I stared at her for a few seconds.

“Just come back to bed, hon.”

Reluctantly, I turned back to bed. In my half-asleep state, I remember thinking that if there really is a spider in the bed, Deserae’s going to be pretty upset.

That spider is FOR SURE is not wearing his pajamas.

LIFE LESSON #23

Make sure your wedding vows include the “til death do us part” thing. You’re going to need it.