Nightmare on Redneck Road

I have a dream.

Oh wait. I'm not Dr. King.

I had a dream. And it wasn't a pleasant dream. This isn't particularly unusual for me. I tend to have nightmares regularly since my son flew the coop. But last night's dream was worse. It was so vivid and clear. I woke up disoriented and sweaty and I had trouble separating my dream from reality.

That'll teach me to watch American Idol and munch on garlic sausage right before going to bed.

In my dream, my husband was out of town and went bar hopping with his best friend. They do this every now and then. This doesn't bother me, for several reasons. First off, most of the women working up north tend to be more manly than my husband and waaaay hairier. Secondly, most women up there tend not to have all their teeth.

Boo always said he married me for my pearly whites. He's not fond of the toothless look. All though, I often tease him about toothless women giving good gummers. What more could a man want?

Heh heh.





See, pearly whites. All the better to BITE with.

I trust my husband. I've spent many years instilling a deep and abiding fear of what would happen if he ever strayed from our marital vows. He's apparently attached to his man parts and would like to keep them attached. If you get my meaning.

I also trust his best friend. He's a good guy. And he knows if he ever encouraged Boo to stray or act inappropriately while away from his family I would think nothing of ripping off his limbs, beating him with them and them cramming them down his throat.

Funny how a guy over six feet tall, solid muscle and intelligent kinda whimpers and flinches when ever I make any sudden moves around him. Pansy ass.

But in my dream, Boo was out trolling for chicks. He was unaware that I was there, stalking his arse watching his every move. I watched him drink beer from a long neck bottle and watched his adam's apple bob up and down.

I watched as his friend twirled a short, stumpy broad in a pink sweater with humongous boobs across the floor.

I watched everything.

And then I woke up in a sweaty panic.

Because I was unable to elbow Boo in the ribs to get him to wake up and comfort me while I bury my nose in the rug of fur he sports on his chest, I did the next best thing.

I called him. It only took six tries before he finally heard the ringing of his cell phone in his sleep and groggily answered the phone.

"What? What'sa matter? It's three in the morning for crying out loud," he half groaned, half growled.

"I had a bad dream," I whispered.

"Are the kids are okay?" he asked while stifling a huge yawn.

"I have no idea. A plague of rabid frogs could be gnawing at their toes right now and I couldn't bring myself to care. You're not listening. I. Had. A. Bad. Dream." I repeated.

"You always have bad dreams. Tell Bug to leave you alone and go back to bed. I have to get up in two hours," he complained.

"It wasn't about Bug. My dream was about you." The hazy fog of my nightmare still clung to me and tugged at my soul.







"I'm alright. Nothing bad is going to happen to me," he assured me. At this point he would have said anything to get me the hell off the phone so he could go back to sleep.

"No, no. That's not what my dream was about. You were at the bar with your buddy-"

He interrupted me and said, "I didn't go out last night. And even if I do go out, you know I'm just keeping my buddy on a leash and trying to keep him out of trouble."

"I know. Quit interrupting. That's not why I had a nightmare." I was getting annoyed now.

"Then spit it out for pete's sake woman. Some of us have to WORK in the morning." He was getting feisty.

"I dreamt I was spying on you at a bar and you were trying to hit on two women." The dream was coming back in full force now. I shuddered and nuzzled my dog to make it go away.

"I'm not going to hit on any woman. Let alone two of them. I can barely keep up with you. Why bring more into the mix?" He reassured me.

"No, no. That's not what upset me. What upset me was just how lousy you were at trying to hit on them. You were like the creepy guy at the bar who just couldn't take no for an answer. The chicks you were hitting on were obviously lesbians and yet you wouldn't leave them alone. I was so embarrassed for you."

"Nice, Tanis. Well, don't worry about it, I'm not hitting on any women, let alone a pair of lesbian lovers."

"I KNOW that. But in my dream all of a sudden everyone turned around and looked at me and started to point and laugh at what a clumsy loser my husband is. It was mortifying. You were such a geek." I squeezed my eyes shut to erase the mental image of my husband leering like a pubescent teenager at two women. I kept seeing him following them around like a puppy dog while everyone in the bar mocked him behind his back and looked at me like I was a loser for marrying him.

"Gee, thanks. You're twisted and I'm tired. Quit dreaming about lesbians unless you and them are naked and I'm involved. I'm going back to bed," he yawned.

"Fine. But if you go out this week, don't forget to tuck in your shirt, wear clean pants and try not to drool. I will not be married to the loser at the bar. Try and at least pretend you're cool. And if a woman-"

"Good night, T. I love you too," he interrupted.

"-If a woman shoots you down, take it like a man. Don't start to cry like someone kicked your puppy." I rushed to add.

"What did I do to deserve you?" Boo asked before hanging up.

I don't know, honey. But I'm glad you found me.

Heh heh.