Doesn’t Like Dem Apples

(I talk in my sleep and my boyfriend likes to recount the stories to me, much to my horror.)

Boyfriend: “You were taking again last night.”

Me: “Oh, god,. What now?”

Boyfriend: “Something about how the apples were coming and we needed to get things ready for them. Then you stopped.”

Me: “What is wrong with my brain?”

Boyfriend: “Then you looked up five minutes later and asked if they were here yet.”

Me: *facepalm*