This is a Public Service Announcement.
Y'all don't take a pillow to a knife fight...especially, and I can't stress this enough, if your wife is trying to sleep on it.
I don't know what happened last night. I probably shouldn't have eaten that second Ho Ho just before layin' down, but I had the most exhausting dream...stop wincing, don't log-off...I'm not gonna tell you about the "strangest dream I had." All you need to know is that it ended with a knife-fight in an airport. It was a pretty rough scrap...
I awoke strugglin' to pick up what felt like a bag of cement. Then I heard Martha's voice...groggy but forceful...
"WHAT on Earrrth...?"
Instantly I realized what I was doing...if not exactly why.
"I'm so sorry Sugar...dreams...sorry 'bout that...sorry" she growled a little bit and we both went back to sleep.
The next morning though she comes into the kitchen givin' me this cockeyed look...like don't you have something you'd like to explain.
"It was a dream Sugar...crazy dream...I was in a knife fight."
Her eyes narrowed...lips pooched out. Her face jutted toward me..."What were you gonna do with my pillow in a knife fight?"
Like it was something that actually happened. I could see it her face..."this is the joker that's supposed to be protecting me and the boy. I sleep better at night when he's here?" I could hear her thinkin' "I gotta get a gun."
I tried to plead my case..."It was a dream...I don't know...", but what could I say really? In the eyes of Martha,...my wife, my boy's mother...I had failed at knife fighting.
"My pillow...to a knife fight?"
"It was a dream."