dreams.

Ryan and I are quite possibly the worst two people to be sharing a bed. Pretty much every night, one of us wakes the other up for one reason or another.
Like Ryan elbowing me in the face.
Or pushing me off the bed.

But most often, its because one of us is having a crazy dream.

Last week I woke Ryan up because people were in our kitchen.
After our chicken.
Because it was poisoned.
And oh shoot, we had chicken pot pie.
How did the chicken get poisoned?
Chicken crystals.

And a few days ago I woke up to find Ryan sitting on the edge of the bed, following something on the floor with his finger.
Our conversation went something like this:

Rye, what are you doing?
There's a bug.
WELL TURN ON THE LIGHT AND KILL IT.
[lays down] Nevermind.
No, not nevermind! Turn on the light and kill that bug!
There's not a bug.
Then what was it you were looking at?
Nancy! It was my scalp!
Your scalp?
[no answer]
Ryan! Turn on your lamp and see if there is a bug!
Nancy! There is nothing there.
Then what the heck were you following on the floor?
I don't remember.
Then please, turn on your light and see if it was a bug.
NANCY! IT WAS A PIECE OF WHAT MY HAIR GROWS OUT OF!
Ryan! You were not following your scalp across the floor!
[No answer]

And then he fell back asleep and I was stuck awake because the thought of a bug anywhere near me is enough to keep me up all night.