Now calm down. I’m not about to insult The Duke. I grew up on John Wayne movies, including this one mentioned in a comment someone kindly left in the Add Your Own Story section of this blog. Check it out:
Last night we finished watching The Quiet Man with John Wayne.
6 Yr old son: Papa, that movie is going to give me nightmares.
Papa: What part?
6 Yr old son: What’s a nightmare?
Papa: Bad dreams that scare you.
6 Yr old son: Never mind… I’ll be okay.
Too cute, right?
I responded to this by thanking the person for evidently thinking of me shortly after it happened. He responded: Read the rest of this entry
The other night I had a dream that I was being attacked by a crow.
The crow was a known serial killer.
And now it was after me.
Exhibit A: Totally a serial killer (Photo credit: Wikipedia Serial Killer File)
Fortunately I utilized my kung fu hand training (because what good kung fu requires you to leave your chair?) and caught the crow with my bare hands. I won’t go into the details of the various ways I tried to subdue this Rasputin crow that wouldn’t die. Members of P.E.T.A. might be reading. One method involved my moving car and the right front tire, but I’m revealing too much!
Anyhow, once the bird was finally dispatched, all its friends and relatives in the tri-state area came after me for revenge, all Hitchcock-like, OF COURSE!
Exhibit B. They’re coming for me. (Photo credit: nahlinse–Swedish for “killer crow file”)
At that point there was nothing for it but to scare myself awake. I do appreciate when that happens, actually. However, once I’m awake in the middle of the night I inevitably discover that I need to go to the bathroom and that, indeed, I will not be able to fall back asleep until I do. So I spent a quarter of an hour lying there trying to psych myself into getting out of the relative safety of my blankets (any child will tell you that you’re safe in your bed so long as you’re under your blankets–even from serial killer birds) and walk the several feet to the bathroom without a murder of crows (that is, appropriately, what they are called) flocking out from under my bed. Read the rest of this entry
Sleeping Beauty (Photo credit: alfromelkhorn)
My four-year-old went through a phase of crying out in the middle of the night because of bad dreams. I got accustomed to the routine of getting out of bed in just my pajama shorts, and sitting in the rocking chair with her until she calmed down.
One night when I heard her calling, I got out of bed, went to her room, picked her up, and just as I was about to sit down with her in the chair she said, “Daddy, could you please Read the rest of this entry