NOT The Man of My Dreams

Last night, in my dream, Aaron was a full-time missionary. We were married, but he also had a missionary companion, as missionaries so often do. We were at his parents house down in Texas. He got a phone call that his dad was stranded somewhere, so he and his companion left to go rescue him. While I was at home, awaiting their return, I began making dinner with Rachael Ray, of course. She was showing me how to make her favorite chicken enchilada bake. We mixed in the cream cheese and salsa, and it looked so good that I couldn't wait to taste it, so I grabbed a big spoonful and popped it in. The sauce tasted great, but I had popped a chunk of raw chicken into my mouth, so I spit it out, disgusted. Rachael Ray seemed not to notice my mistake, since she was busily pulling some strange looking things out of the freezer. They resembled Antarctican Birds, but surely I must be mistaken? She layered them in a huge pyramid on a baking dish and poured the chicken enchilada mixture over them. When I asked her what they were, Rachael Ray was suddenly Samoan, and she couldn't remember the word in English. "Are they...penguins?" I asked. "Oh, yes, penguins, yes, yes," she confirmed as she put the concoction in the oven. Hmm, is that a Samoan delicacy? The so-called chicken enchilada bake was almost done, but still no sign of Aaron. It was only supposed to take a few minutes; where could he be? I was getting pretty annoyed that he was so late and hadn't had the courtesy to call, so I gave him a call and it went straight to his voicemail. Just for me, he had recorded a special greeting, telling me where he was. "Some guy gave us these awesome tickets for the football game tonight, and they are second row seats, so we couldn't pass it up! Don't expect us home; we'll be at the game." I was livid! Missionaries are not allowed to go to football games! And especially not on a Sunday, which it was! How could my husband think that this was remotely OK? I tried to calm myself down by convincing myself that he was kidding. It must have been his idea of a good joke to get my goat. Just then, Aaron called me back and sincerely denied that it was a joke. He completely ignored my reminders about it being Sunday, assuring me that if he had asked, he was sure his mission president would have said it was OK, that it was really no big deal. Which, of course, made it a very big deal indeed. At that point, I woke up, still feeling irritated at my sweet husband, who was sleeping innocently beside me.

For some reason, Aaron is almost always a jerk in my dreams. That's why I lovingly tell him when I wake up that I'm so glad he's not the man of my dreams.