Guilt

I dreamed last night that I was running around a crowded mall with John Cusack and a girl who worked at Piercing Pagoda. Someone else in the group decided that she wanted something pierced and there was much consternation over what it would be...and they were all strange, gothy places like across the top of the foot or somewhere on the thigh... On the way back from the car (which may well have been of the Pinto variety), John and I passed a tv that was showing one of his movies and I said something like "Hey...that's you up there!" and he walked away faster. I caught up with him quickly to apologize. "I'm so sorry...I know you hate that more than anything...I said it without thinking."

I hate when I make John Cusack mad in my dreams.


Of course, the dream was really a rehash of a similar situation from Saturday. I took the Monkey to the zoo to meet up with my friends Korben and Spiggy and their respective little people. We had a great time, but there were points where the kids were a little...everywhere (the girls were wild on their wheelies and the monkey was struggling with patience)...and I asked Korben if he was ok....and realized the moment I said it (which was, of course, a moment too late) that it's the thing he hates the most when people ask him. I felt terrible.

Apparently, I still do.

I've apologized and all is forgiven, but still...sometimes I wish I could just suck the words back in before they go anywhere. That would be a nifty trick. Maybe that's what I'll say the next time the Monkey asks me what I want my one superpower to be...