Last night I half awoke from a bad dream, convinced my side of the bed (and only my side) was crawling with bugs. I yelped and scooted over to Imp Y Celyn’s side, whereupon he jumps up and asks me what’s wrong. I sat up and screamed, “bugs!” And my brave soldier rushed off to get something to defend me with.
He returned… with… a…
towel.
A white-and-pink-striped towel.
He shoved it into my arms and collapsed back onto the bed, already asleep.
This morning he wondered where the towel came from. And learned that his pillow-dodging reflexes are quite good, really.
Snag the bugs… like, if I get enough of them in my towel, they will provide enough lift to bear me softly to the ground? Douglas Adams was right- towels are good for everything!
Ya know, I finally did answer him. I was just too curious. I said that I do like dill, but not sweet. He asked me for my fax number and said he’d send me a recipe for pickles. Never did. Harumph.
It was a dream indeed. I was only half-awake when I “saw” the bugs, and didn’t surface entirerly until I had a towel thrust into my arms.
Bosda, I went back to sleep and made a pact with the bugs (really) that I wouldn’t kill them if they paid a visit to my downstairs neighbors with the bitchin’ sound system, a killer collection of rap/hip hop, and a bedtime of about 2am. :mad: grr.