I think most people have dreams, but many can’t remember them when they wake up. I remember mine vividly, but Nick on the other hand usually has no clue. In fact, typically he cannot even remember when he has action dreams. I have an outsiders view of a few good ones to relate.
I read books in bed to relax and put myself to sleep each night. Nick also gives me a kiss goodnight before he leaves. Then he causes whatever trouble he can until about 1 a.m. (I’m almost certain he’s a masked midnight doughnut shop burglar.) Two nights ago we had this conversation while I was lying in bed:
Me: “Okay, I’m tired. I want to read and go to sleep. Please give me a kiss and go.”
Nick kisses me and looks up, “Oh, I should check the brand of the fan. It’s worked for us really well the last four years.”
Nick stands up on the bed, falls down, stands back up and gets the brand, so we chat about that for a bit.
Me: “Okay. Really, I’m tired. It’s past 10:30. Please give me a kiss and leave.”
Nick gives me a kiss and says, “Can we do something tomorrow instead of going to look at the house or sitting around. It seems like we keep doing the same thing all of the time.”
Me: “Ugh, seriously? I’m tired. Can we talk about this tomorrow? Can I think about it?”
Nick: “Okay, but I just think we need to do other things. Do you want to go to the gym?”
Nick: “Why not?”
Me: “I just don’t want to.”
Nick: “Fine. What about a bike ride? Or kickball practice?
Me: “Please can we talk about this tomorrow?”
Nick turns hit hat sideways so I don’t get hit in the head with the bill, then gives me a kiss. Then he proceeds to say, “What would you think if I got myself a Monster Energy hat and wore it sideways and cruised around town with my seat pushed back? And I put my bass on really loud and drove my car around town like a gangster teenager?”
Me: “Where did that even come from?”
Him: “My hat is sideways, and it would be funny.”
Me: “SLEEP!!!! Let me sleep. I don’t want to talk right now. Please for the love of god just get out of here. Shoo!” At which point I pointed to the door and would not kiss him a fourth time and he left. But I digress…..
At some point I fell asleep, and at some point apparently so did he. I woke up much later to Nick completely asleep standing on our bed, the comforter in his right hand pressed against his stomach. His left arm was in the air like one half of the referee signal for “Touchdown!” He’s kind of hopping up and down, and freaking out a little. I grab his ankle and get him to lie back down.
When he’s lying back down he is breathing really hard and fast, obviously still afraid of his dream. I tried to comfort him by rubbing his hair, gently soothing him with words, and giving him little kisses.
Nick responds with, “Your lips are scratchy,” and he promptly flips over in a huff with his back to me. Obviously I’ve been bothering him while he’s trying to sleep again. Ugh. :)
not at all kickball obsessed. That’s why this dream happened, because he’s completely unstable in the mind about the competitive level of this 5th grade sport played by a bunch of ageing adults.
In the middle of last season I woke up to hear a whimpering of some sort. It was a combination between a scary ghost sound and Garth running away from the camera in Wayne’s World. “OooohoooohooooHoooooOOOOhoooo.” Something like that.
I look over and I see my husband lying on his side, with his legs and back positioned like he’s sitting on a chair and leaning forward. His left arm was under him but bent and somewhat raised and his right arm was up in the air looking like he was going in for a catch. He continued to make noises and stay in this position so I woke him up.
I asked, “Were you having a bad dream?”
He replied, “No. Kickball.”
Apparently he had run in and planted himself for a catch.
Dream 3 and My Personal Favorite to Witness
About a year ago I woke up to screaming. Not super loud, but it was dream screaming. “Ahhhh! Ahhhh! Ahhhh! Ahhhh!” It completely startled me awake and I didn’t know what to do.
I looked over at Nick who was sitting up in bed and still screaming.
I touched him and said, “Nick. Wake up!”
Oh, he got up, but didn’t exactly wake up. Nick jumped out of bed and ran head first into the closet and stayed there.
At this point I was trying hard not to laugh. A large 32-year-old man just wedged himself into a full and rather small closet.
I stood up, grabbed him, directed him back to bed, made him comfortable and covered him up. I tried to sooth him and talk to him and make him feel better. I was rubbing his hair and his arms and being very sweet.
Nick wakes up, glares at me and says, “What are you doing? What time is it? Why are you waking me up?”
He had no clue what just happened.
I can’t wait until the next crazy dream night.