Rude

The dreams are getting shorter and shorter.  Or maybe I’m just not remembering.  Either way, last night was uneventful, partly because I didn’t sleep well.  Worrying all night about something I don’t like doing will always do it.  But then I didn’t need to do that thing, after everything that went on yesterday.

Weekends are supposed to be relaxing!

Anywho, I was in a basement, helping clean.  Why am I always cleaning in my dreams?  Could it mean I need to clean my own house, irl?  There was a huge box with a cushion inside, and I wanted to take a break.  So I crawled inside and took a nap.

But then my best friend’s husband showed up with his hunting buddies, and decided they were going to have a few beers while they watched the football game.  I guess I was snoring (possibly irl) because they decided to throw a blanket over my head.  Dude.  …  .

So, I woke up and went to get a drink, since there was a bar in the basement.  And right in the middle of taking a long sip, my son barged into my room, asking what that smell is, ripping me from sleep.

“WHAT SMELL?  AND WHY ARE YOU WAKING ME UP?”

“It smells like hash browns.”

“DID YOU FORGET WE HAD CHICKEN WINGS LAST NIGHT???  OUT OF MY ROOM.”

SLAM

Thanks, kid.

 

 

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