Slithering Dreams of the Stink-Eye

This is what’s on my mind …

At least this time Nick didn’t make me cry. He made me nervous as all get out, but I was only partially stunned by his behavior.

Yes, sweet Nick. Man of few words but expert at zingers, doing dishes, raising tomatoes and back scratches.

I had to get up this morning. My dreams. Bad, sad dreams.

Last night, there were kids playing in our made-up yard. There was a bit of a gulley that was full of cattails, swampy grasses, standing water and yuck.

A couple of kids saw a couple of snakes and yelled, “Snake!”

They had the good sense to run the other way.

Nick? Tarzan incarnate? He ran toward them and yelled, “Rattlesnake,” and then proceeded to tease it.

Nick stepped a bit closer to the rattler as I yelled, “Get away from it!”

Nick didn’t. He stood there.

As he finally got enough looks at the fanged reptile, he slowly turned his back to walk away.

Strike! The rattler bit him in the butt!

I screamed. Nick screamed. And the rattler finally dislodged his fangs from Nick’s buttocks.

Nick looked in pain and scared.

I also, at that same time as I was trying to dial my cell phone, had a big message that was had broken out on the Mideast and and bombs were on their way and I couldn’t punch the right numbers and a man I don’t know said that a rattlesnake bite wasn’t that bad and didn’t need treatment and no one would call 911. My phone and fingers and brain didn’t work in tandem. And Nick’s buttocks began to swell.

One thing you have to know about the DeBow family butts.

The have them. You know how some men don’t have butts? Their pants hang on nothing but some bony hips?

Not DeBow men. They have rounders. Cute.

But Nick’s swelled so much from the rattlesnake bite that I could’ve get his pants off and the little neighborhood boys were watching the crazy lady try to pull the man’s pants off while also trying to

Call for help and scream about the war in the Middle East.

That is when I woke up and decided to get out of bed.

I looked at Nick. He was sleeping. I felt his butt to make sure it wasn’t swollen.

Why has Nick made me cry?

Because I have had a few dreams where he has left me for someone else. Not only did I cry, but I was mad as a hornet soaked in hot sauce.

One time, he left me, not because of another woman, but because he just didn’t love me anymore. Can you imagine that?

He got the stink-eye all morning as he kept saying, “But I didn’t do anything.”

“Yes you did,” I said. “You left me.”

A couple of times he left me for some young chick or some vamp.

Those were interesting mornings at our house. It is amazing how real a dream can seem.

I don’t think I have ever had a dream about a great dessert.

Nick now knows how this dream stuff works. He simply shakes his head and denies and laughs.

I used to dream about hearing sirens like the Nazis used and hearing bombers coming and me then running down the street, flapping my arms and hoping I could fly over all that was bad and scary.

There have been dreams where I have been lying in bed, asleep at night and hearing someone come in my room and I tried to scream, but couldn’t. And I have dreamed that I graduated college but they found a couple of courses that I missed in high school, and they made me return to high school to complete the course and I could never get out.

Yowser. Shitzu. Nutmeg and Turmeric.

Thank goodness my daydreams are much better.

Nick just walked by and asked how I was doing.

“Good,” I told him.

“How are you?” I asked.

“Fine.”

As he turned to walk into his office, I looked at his butt.

Not swollen.

That’s a relief.

Susan

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