We all dream. A woman, when she's married, hopes that her husband has sweet dreams about her. Maybe romantic (not so likely, our version of romance differs from the male species, usually) or even sexual (which is much more likely, with little details except for the actual act itself.)
I believe that for the most part we want our men to share their dreams with us. This morning I got my wish. He woke and told me he had a dream. Cool. What was it? He went to a Bordello. Uh oh. Sexual dreaming? Well, that's okay. But no. He went their with wooden stakes to kill vampires that used the Bordello as a headquarters. Nice. No sex, just blood.
Funny thing is I believe I know where this particular dream stems from. We are in Wal-Mart and we buy wooden stakes for yard sale signs to help out a friend. He doesn't think practical, he thinks weapon (which for him is practical.)
"We can use these to kill vampires," he says.
I didn't know we had a vampire problem in Neenah, Wisconsin, but hey.
"Aren't they a little long?" I ask.
"No," he replies. "It helps us out so we don't get too close." Practical.
So as we leave Wal-Mart I stop in front of the bench with three teenage girls.
"So, do you think these are strong enough to kill vampires?" I ask him.
We, of course, get strange looks from the girls before they look curiously at each other.
"Sure," he says smiling knowing exactly what I'm doing.
As we leave the Wal-Mart he looks at me and says, "That's only one of the reasons I love you."
I'm sure another is that I wouldn't get upset about him dreaming about a Bordello of Blood.
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