Sleeping Funny

As Jerry Seinfeld might say, what's the deal with sleeping funny?  There's nothing funny about waking up with a stiff neck, sore back or uncooperative knees.  It's a chiropractic situation, not a punchline, wouldn't you agree?  Yet for centuries, loved ones have been examining each other, as if medically trained, and diagnosing what went down, nocturnally.
Sunday morning, I came hobbling into the kitchen, kvetching about my rapidly-aging anatomy.  Naturally, I blamed a variety of daunting acrobatics I perform regularly:  Walking.  Stair-climbing.  Sitting.  Getting up.  Lying down.  Opening the fridge.  "You must've slept funny," said hubby. Ha! This from the man who woke me up in the middle of the night, at least twice last week, hopping up and down and swearing, "Eff it!  Sh*t!  Eff eff eff!"  The source of hubby's agony:  A frozen calf muscle?  Or his need to get an early jump on meeting his daily quota of cursing?  Hard to say, but either way, that was funny.