My husband is a brilliant, hilarious, genius, smarty-pants theologian. He’s still as humble and nice as can be, but his brain is like, crazy smart and he has a retort for everything. In comparison, I am a trembling, bumbling, gullible, naive, obnoxious 8-year old. Mmmm…nope, 6-year old.
Even in our sleep, our brains are like night and day. His dreams are complex, with storylines and action scenes, and he loves to have nightmares…
Excuse me for a second while I explain his nightmare theory. Mr. Gore claims that when you have a good dream, you are disappointed to wake up and find that none of it really took place. When you have a nightmare, however, you get an adrenilene rush and are so stoked to wake up and find that you are not really being chased by zombies or falling off of a roller coaster or, you know, dead. (Yes, he has DIED in his dreams…I thought that was impossible!). So there you have it. I said he was ‘brilliant’, not ‘normal’.
My dreams, however, are absolutely random and nonsensical, with cartoon alien heads popping up out of the ground, or a rapture scene featuring a cardboard cut-out of Jesus floating in the sky in circular motions. And what I consider a nightmare is laughable to Chris…
One night when we were living in Kentucky, I woke up crying in the middle of the night. Chris, ever the light sleeper, immediately woke up.
“What’s the matter?” he asked with concern. “Why are you crying?”
“I had a nightmare!” I cried.
“Ohhh, what about?” he asked, excited to hear what horrors I experienced in my sleep.
“You wouldn’t help me make my Easter cards!!” I wailed. (Don’t judge me. I am positively loony when I am asleep, almost asleep, just waking up, or fully awake).
My dreams of late have been rather embarrassing. In one, I had returned to my high school to watch a basketball game. The cheerleading squad was begging me to come and do a cheer with them, but I was playing hard to get. “I couldn’t!” I said, blushing. The scene cut to the bleachers where two people were looking at me and talking. “Just look at her,” one of them said. “She has NO idea how beautiful she is.”
????? Even when I woke up, all I could say was “Oh, geeze…”. It’s sad, isn’t it, when even you know how pathetic you are?
In another, I was shopping at a huge sale at the new Anthropologie in Tulsa, but instead of being gleeful, I was deeply devastated. Come to find out, the store, open less than a year, was being closed due to low sales. I was filling my straw basket up with goodies (including the most beautiful pair of earrings that I have ever seen) but my heart was experiencing a death heavier than I had ever known as I moped my way through the store. When I went to check-out, the landlord who was shutting down the store and replacing it with a Med-X happened to be standing there with all his cronies. In a rare display of brazenness, I began to make a very loud and very impassioned speech about how evil he was and why he was making the worst business decision of his life. When I finished, everyone clapped and cheered for me.
I wanted to slap myself when I woke up, thinking “The world is going to hell in a handbasket, and these are the things that plague my subconscious?!”
Apparently, things don’t get much better when I’m “awake.” A couple of months ago, Chris had the pleasure of taking part in the following conversation with his lovely wife as he tried to wake me up for church (after he had hit the “snooze” button three times per my request):
“Lesley…Lesley! Wake up.”
“Lesley, it’s time to wake up!”
Lesley! Lesley. Lesley, are you awake?”
“No, I need to hear more than ‘mrph’. Say words to me…What’s my name?”
“My name is not Shadow.”
“That’s your horse name.”
“My horse name? What are you, like a 14-year old girl? Dreaming about horses that you name Shadow…is it wrong for me to be attracted to you?…is someone going to come and arrest me someday for liking you?”
His words cut through my sleepy stupor and caused me to laugh out loud, and I was finally able to wake up and pretend to be a helpmeet.
So…he may be a genius, bright as the sun and brilliantly witty, but I give him all of his material.
Shadow and I make one heck of a team, even when we’re asleep.