I woke in a bit of a sweat. I’m not going to lie. I adjusted my pillow and before I could get up, I had to literally ask out loud “did that really just happen?” Here’s the deal: my husband and I have a rock awesome marriage. Believe me, it’s taken quite a bit of work to get to where we are at, but eleven years of marriage and three kids later, we’re doing good. So when you have a dream that involves someone other than your husband in your bedroom, you get a little antsy.
I know that you’re picturing lots of roses, candles and images worthy of cinemax. At least I would if someone shared their dream sequence with me. But before we progress to the details, you need to know the players. You see, my dear friend (who we will call L) and her husband (J) are both uber organized. No, seriously. You have no idea. They make The Container Store look like child’s play. And me? I’m a bit famous for my messes. I’m a pile girl. I can usually find things, but I often leave the house without my keys. A little while back, L asked me to bring her sweet daughter home from school. I agreed instantly. But when she entered my minivan, I realized that this was going to be a trip from hell for her. Three boys, skateboarding gear, and papers strewn on the floor were just not going to fly. I knew that she was going to report the entire state of affairs to her mother. The entire ride home, she plugged her nose and her ears. Ouch. I quickly called her mother to apologize and had to continually explain “I’m a skate mama.”
Fast forward a week. L and J hosted an amazingly perfect birthday party for their daughter.. Every detail was thought out, every bow tied, and sandwich crust cut. In other words, my perfect nightmare. I confronted L and asked her if her daughter did indeed spill the beans on the hideous state of affairs also known as my minivan. L swore that she didn’t. I, of course, didn’t believe her. She was trying to be the courteous and gracious host…damn it!
So..now that you know the back story, it’s time for the dream. Yes, it took place in my bedroom. But it’s not what you think. Here’s the dream in all of its glory:
I wake up (in my dream, aren’t dreams weird that way?) and the next thing I know, J is marching through my bedroom door. We are absolutely in my bedroom. I recognize the paint and the light fixture. I have just made the bed when we come face to face. “No, No, No” he shouts at me and tells me to move out of the way. “You are doing it all wrong.” He then proceeds to take all of the sheets and blankets off and throw them on the floor. He then remakes the bed in hotel worthy style. The sheets are perfectly tucked in, and he even fluffs the pillows. Insane. And then I wake up.
Is this what you were thinking?
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