Before going to bed each night, I have to check with Catherine, who is usually already asleep, as to where the car is parked. This information determines what time we need to wake up and, you see, it is my responsibility to set the alarm. The logic of me as 'alarm setter' eludes me since I'm usually not the one who has to get up at any particular hour. But I don't make the rules, I just follow them. I've come to accept that there are just certain arbitrary responsibilities that fall on my shoulders. Taking out the trash. Preparing salads. Changing light bulbs. Super-gluing broken plates back together. And setting the alarm.

If we are in a 7:00 am tow-away spot, then I need to set the alarm for 6:45, at the latest. But I usually don't know where we're parked because, well, I'm not the one who parked the car. This is another reason why me setting the alarm doesn't always make sense to me. But like I said, I don't make the rules . ..

If I've forgotten to ascertain the location of the car before C goes to sleep, then I face the daunting task of nudging her awake and asking her. This is no simple assignment. C tends to speak in cryptic phrases when awakened at 2 am, and you need the savvy of an FBI interrogator to discern meaning. Last night is a good example.

"Baby."

Movement from Catherine, ostensibly a sign of consciousness.

"Baby, where did you park."

Her head dropped back on the pillow. I was losing her.

"Baby!"

More movement. "Hmm?"

"Where did you park?"

A kind of groan sounded from deep in her being. She was fighting consciousness, tooth and nail.

"Park. Where did you park?" Repetition helps break 'em down.

She seemed to see a glimmer through the fog of her sleep and she responded: "In the garage."

The garage. I waited for a correction, but there was none. The garage would be a perfectly fine answer, and one I'd be eager to accept . . .

if we had a garage.

"Baby, we don't have a garage."

"Hmm?"

"Where did you park?"

Again, there was searching. Another noisy search for the right answer. Then came the response: "Garage."

OK. This was proving to be more challenging than usual. She was being particularly stubborn. Or was there some mysterious garage I hadn't known about all this time? I decided I should maybe phrase the question differently.

"Did you find a good spot when you came home." I asked.

This approach was a little more fruitful. She seemed to have an easier time finding the words.

"Yes," she said. Yes is a word that is easy to find through sleep. As is the next word: "Good."

Yes and good. I took these words at face value. I went on faith that even though she seemed to think we had a garage, she understood the general intent of my question: were we safe from being towed? Besides, a quick look out the window showed that the car was not parked in the most dangerous towing area. I set the alarm for 7:30, which turned out to be the right decision.

This morning, I told C about her strange response.

"I think I was trying to say outside."

Oh outside! Of course. I made a mental note: garage = outside. Equally unhelpful in terms of determining an actual location, but at least we're closer to something that makes sense. In the future, I think sticking to yes/no questions is probably the best approach.

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