Does anybody else have pee dreams?
You know, a dream where you have to pee? And then you wake up and realize, well, you have to pee?
OK, maybe I should change the subject. Maybe talk about Trump. Space Force anybody?
Will the San Francisco Giants go on a season-ending tear like nobody has ever seen and make the playoffs and win the World Series?
That was officially jumping the shark.
The Giants will not go on a season-ending tear of epic proportions.
They will not make the post-season.
They will not win the World Series.
They will, in fact they already have, returned to the days of being sad, pathetic losers and “almost” competitive teams that give their fans no hope. I lived for forty years as a Giants fan of teams like this. I can live for another forty years. Those World Series victories were a brief, but brilliant, reprieve from the misery of losing.
And, if you think I’m trying to avoid the topic of this post … you would be right.
I mean, seriously, who writes about their pee dreams?
Maybe only me because I’m the only one who has them. Please tell me you have them to.
Last night, I had a dream. I rarely remember my dreams, but I seem to always remember my pee dreams. This one started off with a scene that is irrelevant to this post, but that scene if psychoanalyzed, would be fascinating. Actually, it doesn’t even need to be psychoanalyzed, its meaning was clear, but it didn’t involve peeing.
In this scene in my dream, I was in bed and realized I had to pee. I got up and went into the bathroom. I dropped my underwear and started peeing.
Let me stop here and instruct my lady readers of something that may seem odd to you about men peeing.
Sometimes, it doesn’t come out straight.
Sometimes, it goes sideways.
Sometimes, it splits into two streams.
And this seems to happen most frequently in the middle of the night. When it’s dark. You might think, “Why is it dark? Turn the light on.”
No, that would require me to wake up.
And open my eyes. And if there’s one thing I do not want to do when I have to get up in the middle of the night and pee is wake up.
Even in my pee dreams.
In my dream, I walked to the bathroom. First thing that happened is … well, the spray went everywhere. And when I say everywhere, I mean everywhere. So much for not waking up. And all I could think of was about the hassle of cleaning it all up so the wife wouldn’t get pissed (pun intended) in the morning.
I stopped the flow. Got it straightened out and into the ol’ toilet bowl. And pee’d. And pee’d some more. And on and on and on it went.
Eventually, my son came into the bathroom because he was tired of waiting to pee himself. And he started peeing as well. And my flow just would not stop. It was like a fire hydrant uncapped. Niagara Falls. Or maybe this …
I started to worry that there was something seriously wrong. That I would never, ever again stop peeing. Years into the future, my family would come to visit me in the bathroom while I pee’d.
And, then, I woke up and decided that maybe I should go pee in real life.
Which, sadly, at 3:19 in the morning meant that while I pee’d I started thinking about the thing that happened yesterday and what I would do if this happened and how I would react if that happened and two hours later I finally fell back to sleep.
So, tell me.
This happens to you too, right?
* * * * *
By the way, as I wrote this post, the Giants game started. In the top of the 1st inning they made two great defensive plays and set the Pirates down 1-2-3. In the bottom of the first, Andrew McCutcheon led off with a home run. Buster Posey legged out an infield single.
I’ll stop here for a moment and let the non-baseball fans in on a little secret. Posey is a catcher. He has a hip problem. He doesn’t really run very well and he frickin’ beat out an infield single.
And then a few more things happened, and it’s now 3-0 and the bottom of the first isn’t even over yet.
Maybe there is still reason to hope. I mean …