Keith always falls asleep before I do. He's usually out within 2 minutes of laying down, while it normally takes me a good 30 minutes to even get sleepy. Last night was no exception. He was sawing logs, and I was staring at the ceiling waiting for the Sandman to come.
Suddenly, Keith, in his sleepy state, started kicking, trying to free his legs of the blanket. That is when the heal of his foot connected hard with my shin. Really hard. It hurt and caused the leg below my knee to go dead. I yelled out, but Keith kept on sleeping, clueless of my pain. So, I did what any good wife would do. I kicked him back, rolled over, and fell asleep.
And that is when the dreams started. Dreams that I had no legs. Dreams that my legs were malformed. Dreams that instead of legs I had crutches. Dreams that my legs just would not work.
I woke up with a big bruise on my shin and a new appreciation for my legs. I also seemed to have gained a greater respect for persons with physical limitations, because for a brief, subconscious moment, I was one of them.
Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go show my legs some love and shave them till they're silky smooth.