David abandons my daughter, cheats on me and shoots up drugs with my mother…in my dreams.

In life, he’s the greatest husband.  He makes me laugh.  He rubs my gnarly feet.  He makes me feel beautiful even when I’m wearing ill-fitting clothes, need a haircut and have a giant zit on my face.  He carries heavy stuff for me.  He makes sure the DVR is set to record LOST for me, even after I accidentally delete his WWE program.  I could go on, but long story short:  He’s a wonderful husband, until I fall asleep.

Once I head off to dreamland, I encounter The Bizarro Husband.  You know, the one that uses me as a human shield when the mall we’re shopping in comes under attack by human-size gerbils with machine guns.

I’d love to dismiss these dreams, but it just isn’t that easy.  Every time I have a dream with The Bizarro Husband in it, I wake up furious with my real husband. Then, my twisted little mind begins to work.  I stare at him lying next to me and think, “If we were under attack, what would he do?  Maybe he really hates my hair and wants to cheat on me,” as if I am somehow in tune with his subconscious thoughts that are only revealed to me in a dream state.

Then the poor man wakes up to a myriad of “what if” questions from an obsessive and crazed wife with bed head and morning breath.  He answers every one of my questions through his sleepy haze, then pulls me to him, wraps his arms around me, kisses the back of my neck and says, “Leslie, I love you.”  For a brief moment, I think that he just may have gotten the raw end of this marriage deal.  Until he says, “So, these gerbils.  Can they talk?”

Yeah.  We deserve each other.