I kissed Michael Phelps. . . .

In my dream.  It was the most bizarre of dreams.  After watching Michael Phelps host Saturday Night Live I went, very wearily, to bed.  Pregnancy has already induced some strange dreams, but this was by far the most odd I’d had in a long time.

Michael Phelps is an amazing specimen of human strength and health.  Tall, lean and muscular he is my antithesis in all respects.  I’m only 5’2″ tall, “curvaceous” (trying to by kind to myself 🙂 ) – especially now, and I am in no way athletic.  For some reason in my dream Michael Phelps wanted me!

The dream began at my parent’s house.  I discerned I was not married and did not have any children, but somehow I felt I was still pregnant.  Michael had come to visit my parent’s home wearing his swimming gear.  You know the sight from the Olympic games – his swimsuit unzipped to his waist, black swim cap on his head, swim goggles pulled up to his forehead and a white towel slung over his shoulders.

In the dream I was working from home for someone, I’m not sure whom, but he would come into the office to talk to me.  He’d ask how things were going and just stare at me.  It was weird.  So, in an effort to get some peace and privacy I took my computer, desk and work outside.  The yard looked more like the yard where I lived when I first got married, not my parent’s yard.  I put the desk and my tools not more than 10 feet from the road beyond which was pure white – no fields, trees, houses or people.  I worked on what I could, but the solitude creeped me out so I went back inside to the office.

There he came again – and this time he MAULED me :$ .   As I was sitting in the chair getting ready to get back to work.  Michael didn’t say a word, he just put his hand behind my head and leaned over me.  Next thing I know his lips are on mine and his tongue is in my mouth.  That was the weirdest part.  It didn’t feel right, or nice, or sexy.  It was just awkward.  He pulled away a little bit and asked if I liked it.  I was stunned into silence.  He leaned in again and this time I kissed him back; probably in an effort to get it over with since the first time had been so uncomfortable.  The second kiss was softer; much better than the first. (Sorry, Michael, I’m sure you are a fine kisser.  The impression my dream left was less than Olympic Gold quality 😐 .)

He just turned around and left the room.  After a few moments I followed and went to the kitchen to help my mother finish preparing for supper.  Michael and my brother were sitting at the dining room table waiting for us to finish.  The whole time he did not remove his gaze from me.  It made me uneasy and I avoided having his eyes meet mine.  I guess I was just in shock that as different as we are he would want anything to do with someone like me.

That’s just the way dreams are I guess.  They mess with you big time.  Actually, about a month ago I had a similar dream about Val Kilmer.  Not today’s Val but Val from the “Real Genius” movie era.  I got into that one though.

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