DREAM ON

Big Bore is trying to stop smoking...again. He's back on Chantix, a nicotine-free tablet that tricks the brain into thinking a nasty cigarette is not necessary in order to get through the day. One of the side effects is that one's dreams may be a bit more bizarre than usual, but BB's dreams are always bizarre so he's not concerned about how Chantix might affect his night life.

Occasionally Big Bore will share a piece of his dream world by talking in his sleep, and last night I got a brief earful:

BB: "I promise."

Me: "What?"

BB: (louder) "I promise."

Me: "What do you promise?"

BB: "Not to eat your shoes."

Me: (chuckling at the idea of him gnawing at my Nikes) "Good grief! Why would you want to eat my shoes?"

BB: "Because you think I'm a dog...." (end of dialogue)

Now, I've got to admit he may be on to something here. How many times have I said, "Will you go fetch the newspaper for me?" or, "Roll over" when his snoring has reached more decibels than my ears can bear? Is this how the phrase, "You treat me like a dog" developed?

Well, when Big Bore comes home from work this afternoon, I plan to pat him on the head, say, "Good boy," and see what kind of reaction I get from him. Now, I might expect some panting and slobbering, but if he barks or bites at me, we'll know that the Chantix has another side effect we weren't warned about. And I'm definitely drawing the line at leg lifting!