Last month, I posted about my husband's nightmares. What I didn't mention is that he also has some very funny dreams. Last night he dreamed I was pregnant with a baby girl and we had a huge fight because I wanted to name the baby Foster Grant. (Like I would name a baby Foster Grant. Ray Ban, now that's a different story.)
A while back he had a great dream that I meant to post but didn't because...well...I suck. And because when I think about posting something my head thinks that I've actually posted it. Which is what I get for thinking, and why I should try not to do it so much. But I digress. As usual. I should warn you, this dream contains mild vulgarities because it's my husband's dream. Not saying my husband is mildly vulgar, only that his vernacular is sometimes a bit peppery.
In this dream, Husband was at a store and Stephen King and George Carlin were signing autographs. Husband got in line and then when it was his turn discovered that since he was the 1000th person to get an autograph, he won the grand prize, which was to have Stephen King and George Carlin come to dinner at our house.
He rushes home to tell me, all excited, but when I hear about it I say, "I don't want to have dinner with Stephen King. Stephen King writes crap and I don't talk to people who write crap." So SK and GC show up, but I refuse to come out and meet them. I do walk through the living room occasionally, shoot dirty looks at Stephen King, and mutter "crap" under my breath in passing.
Husband is getting embarassed when Stephen King suddenly looks at his watch and exclaims, "It's time for The Division. Where's your TV?" and Husband has to tell him we don't have cable. So Stephen King gets all mad and refuses to stay and his handlers user him and George Carlin out of the house so he can go back to his hotel and watch The Division.