My Wife's Boyfriend
So I'm having a dream the other night. The images were real clear.
Aren't dreams strange? Sometimes we can only remember little pieces, and other times the dialogue, the feelings, and even the tone are undeniably clear. Then we are left to try and grasp the meaning.
Without further ado, here's the dream:
I'm sitting in the living room with the boys and my beautiful wife enters with a tall, young guy who can walk across the room without going, "oww, oww, oww."
"Who's that guy?" I ask.
"The Yankees are winning," I inform.
"Who's pitching?" Kathy asks, ignoring my initial question.
"Garcia," I say as the guy sits next to me and nods.
Kathy is buzzing around the kitchen. The boys are a tad curious and I know something is awry when my beautiful wife delivers a beer to the guy sitting on my left.
"Thanks babe," the guy says and my wife leans in and gives him a quick kiss.
Then she glances at me.
"Did I tell you I was dating?" She asks.
Garcia strikes out Youkoulis to get out of the inning and strands the baserunner. I clap, but the guy drinking my beer groans.
"I'm a Red Sox fan," he says.
Now I've had enough!
"Who the hell are you?" I ask.
My wife enters and tries to calm me. "Relax, we can all get along!"
"What am I supposed to tell people?" I ask.
"Just tell everyone this is your wife's boyfriend," she says.
This seems to make sense to me. We all sit and watch the game, and the Yankees win. Huh! There boyfriend, suck on that!
That was the dream.
So, naturally, I was pissed at Kathy yesterday. When I told her about it, she laughed. She may have even called me an idiot.
"You were very matter of fact about it," I said.
"What else would I do?" She asks.
Of course, I was reassured that it was simply a silly dream.
I couldn't even articulate how scared I'd been.
I mean, really?
A Red Sux fan?
Aren't dreams strange? Sometimes we can only remember little pieces, and other times the dialogue, the feelings, and even the tone are undeniably clear. Then we are left to try and grasp the meaning.
Without further ado, here's the dream:
I'm sitting in the living room with the boys and my beautiful wife enters with a tall, young guy who can walk across the room without going, "oww, oww, oww."
"Who's that guy?" I ask.
"The Yankees are winning," I inform.
"Who's pitching?" Kathy asks, ignoring my initial question.
"Garcia," I say as the guy sits next to me and nods.
Kathy is buzzing around the kitchen. The boys are a tad curious and I know something is awry when my beautiful wife delivers a beer to the guy sitting on my left.
"Thanks babe," the guy says and my wife leans in and gives him a quick kiss.
Then she glances at me.
"Did I tell you I was dating?" She asks.
Garcia strikes out Youkoulis to get out of the inning and strands the baserunner. I clap, but the guy drinking my beer groans.
"I'm a Red Sox fan," he says.
Now I've had enough!
"Who the hell are you?" I ask.
My wife enters and tries to calm me. "Relax, we can all get along!"
"What am I supposed to tell people?" I ask.
"Just tell everyone this is your wife's boyfriend," she says.
This seems to make sense to me. We all sit and watch the game, and the Yankees win. Huh! There boyfriend, suck on that!
That was the dream.
So, naturally, I was pissed at Kathy yesterday. When I told her about it, she laughed. She may have even called me an idiot.
"You were very matter of fact about it," I said.
"What else would I do?" She asks.
Of course, I was reassured that it was simply a silly dream.
I couldn't even articulate how scared I'd been.
I mean, really?
A Red Sux fan?
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