“It’s so nice out tonight,” I told Mike, “let’s sleep with the windows open.”
“Good idea,” he said.
“This was one of my favorite things to do when we lived in the country,” I said as we climbed into bed. “I loved falling asleep with the cool breeze and hearing all the nature.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’ve missed this.”
“Except in the country we didn’t have to listen to the neighbor’s barking dog,” I complained. But, Mike did not respond because he had already fallen deeply asleep. He’s amazing like that. I must have fallen asleep too, because I have no memories after that until a random amount of time later when I was marching across my bedroom.
“I hate you, you stupid dog!” I heard myself shout before slamming the window shut and stomping back to my side of the bed.
“That was frightening,” Mike said in his gravely, sleep voice.
“I know,” I agreed. “That dog barks loud.”
“Not the dog,” he said. “It was the shouting human that scared me.”
“Well, that crazy dog sounded like it was in the room with us.”
“There was one crazy person in the room with us.”
He may have a point.