a mumble in the night

It's a twisted scene when your sleep deprived mind has you interrogating your husband in the middle of the night about where his brother is. Yes, I was sleeping and "no" his brother shouldn't be and never has been in our bed.
I wasn't on my feet but I can still claim an occurance of 'sleepwalking' since it's a giant step up from a mumble in the night.

I have been known to sleepwalk under stressful periods in my life or when I am overtired. Once, I ruffled the feathers of an innocent, slumbering houseguest by shaking him and demanding that he "tell me where the list is!". I thought he came with a list of instructions on how to care for him and how to get him home.
He's a grown man.
He lives in the next town over.
He doesn't stay over anymore.

Meanwhile, last night I kept saying "where is your brother" and Eric kept repeating "he is in his crib". I started to get really heated when the stupid, stupid fool would not listen to me. "I'm not talking about the baby, I want to know where your BROTHER IS!" He clearly was not concerned about why I thought the baby was missing and when he finally realized that I was saying "brother" he muttered I don't know". Gee thanks, you idiot!
A few minutes later (probably seconds but it felt like minutes) I snapped out of my subconsious hysteria and put the pieces of reality back together. "Brother is not here...brother was never here....nobody is missing, go back to sleep and try to salvage your dignity in the morning.
I snatched up some sympathy over the ordeal and went with "I'm so exhausted and look what it is doing to me!"
cuckoo....