I've been having nightmares lately. The little kid kind, where I'm being chased by monsters through a dark house. I had a rather involved one last night, and woke up in the early morning hours on the verge of a scream. I lay in bed, getting my breathing and heart rate back under control and--as a means of comforting myself--reached out to my beloved, lying peacefully beside me. After all, what better comfort after a nightmare than the solid, reassuring presence of another human being?
That is, until said human being swipes your hand away in his sleep and then scratches the spot on his arm where you dared touch him. "Cooties," Blair said this morning, nodding solemnly, when I told him what he'd done.
He also checked out the reading material on my night stand. "Well no wonder you're having bad dreams," he exclaimed. "Vegetarian Times magazine? It's like you're trying to scare yourself."
He does amuse me...