In the Dead of the Night

Hubby wakes me. He tells me I woke him. How? I was giggling in my sleep. Giggling. I can’t possibly think of anything these days to giggle about. I’m glad my inner child is being entertained, even if it is in the dead of night.

He then proceeds to tell me – in a rather loud tone of voice (the man can NOT whisper…it’s a known fact) – about the strange dream he was having when I woke him.

Of course, my constant readers know what’s coming next. Yes. He woke up the puppies. It’s now 1 a.m. I’m outside in my jammies, hoodie, and tennis shoes watching two black and white streaks charging around the yard. The scent of skunk is in the air. The rattle and bang of a nearby train is shuttling along. The neighbors dog is woofing like he means it. I’m sitting in a lawn chair on the porch wishing they would hurry up and do their ‘thing’ so I can go back to bed.

Back inside. Hubby’s snoring. I wonder whatever made me giggle in my sleep. How’s your night going?