(Dorian starts to doze off while eating corn chips)
"Dorian! You're falling asleep with food in your mouth. Stop that."
"Mmf?...I was...contemplating the corn."
Me, trying to get out of bed to feed Akhim: "I love you."
Dorian, rolling over in his sleep and seizing my pants: "I love you, pants demon!"
"They said they had the strobe lights, but I lied. Don't worry, I'll protect you. Tobacco is a local product, it can't be grown in Iceland."
"I'm trying to wake up, but...there's...I'm trying to figure out what's real..."
(Akhim climbs onto Dorian, settles down and sits on Dorian's rear end.)
"...There's a cat on my butt...there's...lidless, upside down Tupperware stretching all the way from me to forever...and I'm looking into the Tupperware and there's all these connections to things and I'm trying to figure out what connections to connections are real and what connections to the Tupperware aren't real and I'm waking up...I guess I don't have three arms...oh, good, the only thing that was real was the cat butt."
* * *
Years and years ago, when I was very young, my family took a trip to Door County during Pumpkinfest. There were pumpkins everywhere, including on fence posts. According to my father, while my mother and I were off doing something, some other person knocked one of these post pumpkins off its perch, and my father (quick reflexes that he has) kicked out at the last second and saved the pumpkin from smashing against the hard concrete below by catching it between his foot and shin, perfectly balanced.
My mother and I still insist we don't believe that this happened.
Anyway, Dorian has heard this story...
"Your dad is sitting on the king pumpkin."
"He caught it with his foot."