Last night I had one of my semi-annual funny dreams that woke me up laughing. It also woke up Kelly, who was not as amused as I was, probably because Zach was sleeping between us. (He’d woken up hungry at 4:30 am and we brought him into bed, fed him and let him fall asleep there.)
What was so funny this time? In the dream, my brother, Doug, had a box of coffee, about a cubic foot in size. The coffee had solidified into a kind of jelly, like gravy does when you refrigerate it. He was being silly with his daughter, and said, “Hey, watch this!” He then proceeded to pretend to drink the coffee from the box. Except the coffee slid out and exploded on the carpet. And I feel to pieces, laughing.
I still thought it was funny when I woke up this morning, seeing the image of that block of congealed coffee exploding on the carpet. Kelly’s response this morning probably sums it up best:
“I guess you had to be there,” she said.