I had a most excellent, albeit fairly PG dream about Ryan Reynolds last night. (I didn’t realize I even liked him, but apparently my subconcious likes him … A LOT.)
So, Ryan and I are on a cruise ship. He is beautiful, of course, and I am a much better version of myself. My hair is longer and thickier, and I am in a bikini … and I look good in it. He is super sweet … we are holding hands and laughing and talking. He suggests we go for a swim.
So we dive into the ocean and frolic about a bit, when I notice my cell phone on the ocean floor. And it’s ringing. It’s my friend Kristy. Ryan looks at me and says “I’ll get it sweetie.” He dives into the water and comes back with my phone.
I tell Kristy I will call her back. Ryan kisses me gently. I open my eyes and gaze deeply into his.
Then he says …
“Mommy, I need to go potty.”
At which point, real me wakes up to see Scarlett standing by my bed rubbing her eyes.
Ah, Scarlett. One, more information than I need at 5 a.m. Two, you have awful timing.