Night Terror

I woke up feeling nauseous and I'm pretty sure it wasn't morning sickness. The following is an excerpt from me and Ryan’s conversation:

Ryan: I had a nightmare last night.
Bethany: Me too!
Ryan: Mine was awful.
Bethany: Oh Pooh Bear (sympathetically), whatever your dream might have been…mine was way way worse.

Ryan proceeded to tell me of his nightmare of a boss from hell and an assistant suing him for racial discrimination. I sat there smugly as he recounted his dream because I knew that my bad dream could run laps around his bad dream. Still, I politely let him finish and even added a few “oh nos” and “that sounds horrible” to be supportive.

Then it was my turn. I left out the gruesome details, for obvious reasons, but gave him the general idea of my night terror. Then I made him promise that under no circumstance was he to EVER bring up my dream to me again.

While he conceded that my nightmare was one of the worse he had ever heard, he had a hard time taking the vow of silence. Surely he could use the dream to tease and torment me for years to come. You see, in my nightmare…I had a love affair with David Hasselhoff.