Friends Bearing Guns

The other night I moved into that syrupy space between wakefulness and dreams, and thought that the Wife was roughly snuggling me. There was frenzied movement, interspersed with a tight little squeeze around my chest. There was also something metallic that occasionally whacked the back of my head. She’s on the wrong side of the bed, I thought to myself.

Finally I woke to find Isaac snuggled in behind me, his ducky in one hand, his cowboy gun in another. Even when he sleeps, that boy can’t be still.

Later I had a dream that Eli was kidnapped by a gang of carnies who travel by train. I have no idea what that means. In my dream I stepped into my bedroom long enough to grab my two favorite guns. Then I called a couple of men I know, and they brought their guns, and then we went and got Eli back. What’s nice is that I’m confident each of those men would help me bring violence if that’s what was needed, without hesitation. It’s good to have friends like that.

Comments

  1. karen

    friends bearing guns. what’s so endearing about this piece to me, as a second amendment advocate, is that you really mean it, and there really are friends who would willingly use force to win back your son. sound familiar?

Comments are closed.