I don't mix with snakes . . .

A few days ago I rediscovered just how terrified I am of snakes. I had a dream that someone gave Dave two huge stuffed snakes, and since he thought they were pretty cool he decided to prominently display them on shelves in our living room. I was so scared that I just cowered in the corner and begged him to take them down, even though I knew they were stuffed.

Maybe this dream isn't too riveting to read about, but here's the weird part: it really affected me physically. I started thrashing around and crying out in in my sleep--by the time Dave woke me up I was hyperventilating, I was so terrified. The only other time in my life that a dream affected me like this was about six months ago, and it was--you guessed it--another dream about snakes. Dave let a couple of live snakes loose in our apartment and I practically ripped the front door off the hinges, I was so desperate to get out. That one made me hyperventilate in real life as well.

So why is Dave always the one tormenting me with snakes in my dreams? Does a man who surprises his wife with cinnamon rolls seem like a man who would flash snakes around when his wife is terrified of them? I don't think so. Maybe my middle-of-the-night hyperventilating is just to show him how deeply my fear of snakes is rooted so he'll be willing to protect me from any future sons thinking it's funny to bring snakes into the house to scare Mom . . .