My husband tells me about the times I talk in my sleep. He’ll wake me up and tell me I sounded like a car and I explain that I was racing with Mario Andretti. I have no interest in NASCAR. He’ll be tired in the morning and tell me that I kept lifting up the covers and whistling. Interesting concept but I was baking and putting muffins in the oven with Betty Crocker. I don’t even cook. My favorite was the night after we watched The Princess Bride. He said I insisted I was Inigo Montoya and told him to prepare to die. I didn’t even know he was the six-fingered man.