Jeanine and I came upstairs to bed and found a sleepwalking Silas conked out on our bed. The lights were still on, and he'd somehow poked his arm through a hole in the lining of our bedspread.
You're in good company, Silas. Your Uncle Josh woke up a few nights ago swatting at the air saying, "Gross! Gross! What is this STUFF falling from the ceiling? It's DISGUSTING!"