Conversation

I close my eyes again, and your breathing and the motion of the truck quickly send me off into a deep sleep - the kind of sleep I used to get, way back when.

I'm dreaming, or at least I think I'm dreaming, and there's a nasty mosquito that keeps biting me. I swat at it, and miss. It bites me again and this time I get it. Stupid mosquito.

"OUCH" That wasn't a dream. And it wasn't a love tap either. My eyes fly open and I lift my head to see you glaring at me. I reach behind myself to rub the very sore spot on my behind, and you grab my hand and squeeze just a little.

"Whatever possessed you to hit me?" you growl. "But I was asleep. I thought it was that nasty mosquito I was dreaming about."

"That mosquito was me trying to wake you up for the past half hour."

Oh boy. I think I'm in real trouble now. "Are you too tired to keep driving?" I ask. "Not yet, but it is time for some coffee and for you to take over for a while so I can relax my shoulder a bit."

"How long have I been sleeping?" "Oh, about four hours or so." "Why didn't you wake me up as soon as your shoulder started to hurt?"

"Oh, and now you're questioning me?" Oops. I just keep digging myseof in deeper tonight. I may never be able to climb out of the hole I've just gotten myself into.

"No, Sir, I just don't want you to be in pain." "Oh, I won't be alone in that for long," you reply. "You're going to pay for that mosquito remark."

"But first, we need coffee."