Feets Don't Fail Me Now

Thank G-d they're just dreams!

We all have them and we don't always know what they mean. Most men probably visualize trains going through tunnels all night or throwing winning touchdown passes. They are so obvious and simple.

But women are different and more mysterious. I don't know what the others dream about, but often mine are quite scary.

For example, my recurring "Help me, help me!" dream, where I am pursued by a faceless stranger who is trying to hurt me. I am lying in bed and I see a shadow going around the perimeter and tucking me in tighter and tighter and I can't get out. I am packed in there like stuffing in a Thanksgiving turkey. Then he will be able to do me harm.

Another way he gets me is by massaging my carotid arteries decreasing blood flow and oxygen to the brain until I faint. This is sort of like the "Sleeper Hold" made famous by WWF wrestlers. Then he will be able to do me harm.

I feel like I am starring in that picture, The Scream.

In my sleep, I yell, "Help me! Help me!" until Mike has to shake me into awareness. This happens about 3 times a year.

Any time we go to a hotel, I must untuck the tight sheets or I will not get in.

The maid must think we had a hell of a night.

Now, as some of you may know, I do a lot with my feet. For example, yoga 5 times a week, StairMaster and spinning class twice a week . Plus I do a lot of walking. In addition, I often need to kick Mike's ass to remind him who is boss. So my feet are very important to me. I pride myself on my well manicured size 7 appendages. Jeff "Toot,Toot" Miller has even commented on their cuteness. (Could he be the stranger???)

Back to my scary dreams...last evening, I had the Mother of all Nightmares. My young Kiwi physician, Dr. Mawdsley, was recommending that I amputate my foot to prevent complications and pain in the future. He said he was planning to do his own foot when the time came. I don't know which foot it was, but it was one of the pair that I needed.


I was so traumatized with the thought of losing a foot... no more yoga other than Vrksasana (Tree Pose). StairMaster would be twice as hard. It would have to be Hopmaster. When I kicked Mike's ass, I would fall over, giving him a slight advantage.

But most traumatic of all, what scared me the worst was that my brothers, Rick and Barry, would be endlessly mocking me behind my unsteady back. They would give me a new secret codename...PEG. All future gifts would be expensive shoes. Believe me, these boys know a lot of one legged jokes.

So in my dream, I told the doctor to give me drugs and plenty of them and I would deal with the pain. I did not need to scream, "Help me!" I just told the doctor to F- off and left the office on my own 2 feet.

But after pondering a bit, having one foot does have some advantages. Pedicures are quite dear in New Zealand and the price would drop from $60 TO $30. My socks would last twice as long. I could get great roles in pirate films. With a pointy titanium prosthetic, Mike would certainly know who's in charge.

I could also stump that dark stranger.

So Rick and Barry, save the jokes for some other cripple. You know you are not allowed to attack me anyway.

Hey, who knows, maybe I could even marry Paul McCartney now that the other hobbled bitch is out of my way.