thisisnotreallyablogforreal
Monday, July 21, 2008
Last night. . .
Marc is talking loudly in his sleep.
Him: Terrible! Oh, it's terrible! It's just terrible!
Me:(trying to wake him up) What's wrong? What's terrible?
Him: (eyes open, but still asleep and really, really upset) The Steelers! The Steelers. That was terrible. They're doing terrible!
Me: Baby, it's okay. The season hasn't started yet.
Him: Oh. Oh good. (closing his eyes again) Because that was a really bad play. Really, really bad.
No, having a boyfriend who has nightmares about football when it's not even football season is really, really bad.
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Him: Terrible! Oh, it's terrible! It's just terrible!
Me:(trying to wake him up) What's wrong? What's terrible?
Him: (eyes open, but still asleep and really, really upset) The Steelers! The Steelers. That was terrible. They're doing terrible!
Me: Baby, it's okay. The season hasn't started yet.
Him: Oh. Oh good. (closing his eyes again) Because that was a really bad play. Really, really bad.
No, having a boyfriend who has nightmares about football when it's not even football season is really, really bad.
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