I had this weird dream last night where John brought his mistress to this barbecue we were at. I told him that he had to make her leave because, get this, she was swinging a pickle ball racket and someone was going to get hurt. Then he gave me the worst pouty face ever given by a 6'2", 42 year old man wearing an "I club Baby Seals" T-Shirt*. Worst pouty face ever. He even hunched up his shoulders. It was pathetic.
Then I woke up mad at him; not so much because of the mistress thing but more because he never takes my safety precautions seriously. He must have been having a sweet happy dream because his hand came over and tried to hold my hand but I snapped mine out of his grasp. I may have been willing to forgive him for his imaginary indiscretion but I certainly wasn't willing to forget just yet.
Then when I was sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee, Sam came in and starting telling me about this scary dream he had about a crazy woman chasing people around the backyard. They all ran inside and she killed someone with the curtains. I asked if she was swinging a pickle ball racket and he sat there, staring into space for a few seconds, and said, "naw". Followed by more staring. Then, "What's a pickle ball racket?" Me, "Go ask your father, he gave it to her."
*You know those 'I heart' t-shirts where it's an actual heart shape in place of the word 'heart'? Of course, you do. Same thing here but with a club. The card suit, not a big wooden stick. He's from Newfoundland. It's actually quite funny.
**He's never clubbed a baby seal. Though, I think he has had flipper pie.
****No, I have never had flipper pie. Are you nuts?
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