THE SCOTTISH DREAMER INVITES A NAKED STRANGER TO BREAKFAST

The Scottish Dreamer (story here) and her family were on a little vacation in Idaho. It was Sunday morning. She and one of her boys went out their French door that led to the swimming pool and the spot for breakfast. She thought it would just be juice and a muffin but it was more. She was halfway through her French toast and thought she'd go tell her hubby and other son to hurry up so they could eat before they went to church.

When she got to their door it was locked. She'd just gone out that door. How'd it get locked? She pounded on the door, calling to her husband to hurry and come and have some delicious breakfast.

Nothing, Not even a whisper of a sound from inside.

More pounding on the door. "Hurry Clark Kent," (not his real name but it fits), "hurry and come to breakfast."

Nothing.

Then she noticed the drapes weren't closed all the way. She cupped her face with her hands and peered into the room. She saw a naked man with a tattoo of a cross on his back. He started tiptoeing to the very door she stood on the other side of.

The Scottish Dreamer was probably an Olympic athlete in her early years as she made it back to the table in one point four seconds--wearing four inch heels, yet. She picked up her fork, looked at the ceiling--as if it were fascinating--and pretended she never left the table. In fact, if she could, she would have grown roots.

I don't know if her husband and son ever made it to breakfast. I don't know if naked-tiptoeing-tattooed man did either.

I could hardly draw a breath for laughter when the Scottish Dreamer looked at me and--with the face of an angel, an innocent angel--said, "This kind of thing happens to me all the time. I don't know why."

I don't know why, either. Maybe it's Karma. Maybe she and Mrs. Bird really are long lost sisters. I'm just grateful for the laughter that saves me from insanity.

INTRODUCING A NEW PLAYER--THE SCOTTISH DREAMER

I have a new Scottish friend. She is intelligent, savvy, funny, spiritual, patient, and, let's face it, she's bilingual. (You ever heard any deep-Scottish person speak their version of English?)

She is a dreamer. A real dreamer and she talks during her dreams. Her husband sometimes records her dreams and they are hilarious. I will wait for her to post her latest and then I will give you a quick version.

She and her husband sleep on a waterbed. She is tiny, about 90 pounds with a mop of blond curly hair, not that her hair has anything to do with this post but her weight does. Her husband is not tiny. He could stop a locomotive. (I will call him Clark Kent.) One night she had gone to bed first and was asleep when Clark Kent got in bed. The waterbed did it's "wave thing" and the Scottish Dreamer put her arms straight above her head and yelled, "Woo hoo!" Just as if she had gone over the edge at the top of the roller coaster. Then all was quiet. She didn't even wake up.

I've been thinking about this. I think she expects the best out of life. The fun. The good stuff. If that had happened to me, my hair would have stood straight up--what hair I have left after this week's Internet outage--and I would have yelled something like, "Ohmygosh, I'm gonna die!"

Yup, the Scottish Dreamer is an optimist. She is going to enjoy the ride that this earth life offers. What she has is Optimistitis. I hope she's contagious.