This morning, I dreamed that I beat my son for waking me up at 5 am. Disturbing. So disturbing, I couldn’t back to sleep.
I got out of bed at 6, only to find the boy up and around, stalking me as I tried to find $10 for his oldest sister. She needed to buy a Drama Night shirt. Today. Ugh.
Cue a brief moment of terror and shame, wondering if my dream had not been a dream at all. Had I, in fact, spanked my son for being up at 5? I’m a sleep-walker, a sleep-talker, a sleep-kisser. Once I had sleep-sex with my husband and had NO memory of it. He was non-plussed, to say the least. I’m simply thankful I didn’t call out Joe Manganiello’s name.
Oh, I didn’t spank my son. It was a dream. Yes, I did have to ask him. He thinks his Mommy is really, really weird.
I did put him back to bed with a comic book, got back into my own bed and cussed my dad for cursing me with an early riser, now that he’s gone and can no longer drag me out of bed at 6 am to do chores.
I hope you’re happy, Dad.
He’s totally happy.