A Story

Husband and I are sleeping in bed dreaming pleasant dreams.  It’s approximately 3:00 am.  Suddenly, something jumps or falls on top of me.  I squeal.  I start flapping my hands, because doggy paddle flapping will totally help in these kind of circumstances.  I continue squealing and flapping until hubby wakes up, because now this “thing” has flopped over on him.  “AH!  AH!” he yells.  He throws this unknown “thing” down on the ground, hard, to show it who’s boss (insert booyah! here if desired) and maybe even kicks/stomps on it a few times.  He’s breathing heavily.  My heart feels like it’s about to pound outta my chest.  He gets back in bed and we lay there in silence, staring at the ceiling, listening to our quick breaths. I finally giggle, because I realize what it was.  Hubby asks me with complete bewilderment, “What was that?!”  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . (view looking up at the ceiling if laying in our bed) I answer, “Um, remember that branch I bought at Tai Pan?  Yah….sorry about that.” …but dude, if that had been anything real, you woulda totally saved the day. **the maybe on the stomps/kicking part is because that’s how I remember it.  He doesn’t remember doing that, but Dillon doesn’t even remember full conversations we have at night, ha ha!  All I know is that there was a whole lotta shuffling going on with that branch after he threw it on the ground.  That part he does remember.  :)