Why I Would Make a Sucky Polygamist Wife (alternate title: Why Not to Eat Leftover Shrimp Pad Thai with Extra Peanut Sauce after Midnight)

[WARNING: This is going to be a "what I dreamt last night" post, so if you don't like those you should probably "walk on by-y-y-y" (shout out to my girl Dionne!). However, before you leave you might want to consider that the post will include, among other things, Jennifer Love Hewitt and jarring fruit (talk about key word search combination!), just so you know.]

[[DISCLAIMER: This is in no way meant to criticize or mock people who choose a polygamous life-style, as long as everyone is consenting I'm cool with that. It's all about me. Really.]]

So I'm sleeping, minding my own business, when my damned brain decides to make up a dream, where Hubby and I, along with a lot of other people have apparently decided to become Polygamists and live in a Compound. Not a scary, creepy compound like the one that has been in the news lately - ours is really nice and modern and I didn't notice any kids, but then again, that happens to me frequently anyway.

We come in mid-story where Hubby has taken on Jennifer Love Hewitt (JLH) as a second wife. See, JLH is one of Hubby's real-life-never gonna-happen lust objects, and frankly why wouldn't she be - she's adorable, right? So we're in our beautiful polygamist compound house and Hubby is "with" JLH while I'm in our state-of-the-art equipped kitchen attempting to jar peaches to store for, I don't know, the Apocalypse? Whatever, the point is, I of course, suck at it because HELLO!, it's *jarring fruit* - that counts as a craft in my book and I'm not frickin' frackin' crafty!

So while I'm wrestling with the jarring machine (there is a machine for that right? Well, in my dreamworld there is, it's big) and getting all sticky, my best friend Purplepassion (did I mention some of you, my Blogging buddies, are in this dream? Well you are.) walks in - ostensibly to make sure I don't kill myself or the peaches, because well, she knows me.

As she's wiping peach goo off of my super beautiful counter top, she tells me that JLH was mentioned in the Polygamist Gazette because she had sold some ridiculous amount of tickets for the Annual Polygamist raffle or carnival or something. To which I replied "Of course she did!" all snarky and bitchy and sarcastic, like you know I can be. She looked up at me and asked if I was OK, and I said no. I'm an only child - I don't *do* sharing all that well.

So we took a break from the peach torturing jarring (is that the term?) to go out and sit on one of the beautiful Polygamist Compound front porches. When we get there we run into newly Polygamisted Poppymom and DixiePeach (I've never physically met them, but we've known each other virtually for years) who are sitting there knitting, and Purplepassion begins to knit too. Meanwhile I sit there, sniffling and looking at my beautiful cuticles (they have a mani-pedi service at the Polygamist Compound) because HELLO!, knitting is a craft and I'm not crafty dammit!

Poppy, who had apparently just arrived, looks at me and asks me if Hubby had taken on a second wife? I said yes, and they all came and comforted me, by giving me ice-cold Coca Cola in a frosted glass. Then Poppy told me that she had read about it, again in the Polygamist Gazette, and that now that he had a second wife Hubby was highly respected in the community. To which I responded in my dream, I swear I'm not making this up, "Well la-di-frickin-da! "

That's the last thing I remember before Hubby woke me up to start our road trip to Naples.

The morals of the story so that this doesn't happen to you:

• Don't eat leftover shrimp pad thai with extra peanut sauce after midnight


• Don't pause your TV during Jennifer Love Hewitt's bra commercial because you have to do something else for a few minutes and you don't want to miss any part of the show that comes back on right after JLH's commercial


• Continue avoiding the polygamist story on the news

Don't say I didn't warn you!