The missus and I are going to Florida again. She’s very excited about the trip. Last night she dreamt the two of us were in Florida and had spotted a beautiful woodpecker in a tree, and that we were watching the woodpecker circling the tree, hammering away at it, extracting amazing bugs from under the bark. Then she woke up.
I have to explain: my wife is under the impression (perhaps hallucinogenic) that I snore. It’s one of those well-worn marital jokes for us (“okay then, sleepy noises,” she says) and I’ve even wondered if hypno-therapy might help her in dealing with these delusions. Still, not unlike reading tarot cards and Harry Potter, these fantasies of hers persist.
(Both our dogs snore, on occasion. I think she should just listen for respiratory harmonies and find somnambulant music where she can.)
She also claims that, when I’m congested (I’m recovering from a cold) I make this little rattling noise in my throat while (not!) snoring. She even had fun imitating the sound for me this morning, as she claimed to have heard it right after waking from her dream of hearing a woodpecker’s rat-a-tat-tat.
At first I found it quite interesting, as I listened to her describe the dream, thinking maybe she imagined something unusual, like seeing a pileated woodpecker in Florida, or the perhaps-extinct ivory-billed woodpecker.
And then it all took that wicked little twist, accompanied by the amused gleam in her eye as she mimicked a woodpecker’s handiwork (nasalwork?) in my respirations.
Okay, honey, yuk it up. (And you just know that if I were to accuse her of snoring like a woodpecker hammering a tree, that would just be loutish male persecution of a poor woman who only wants to get her rest at night.)