Have you ever had the type of night that when you woke up the next morning you felt as though you just went eight rounds with Cicely Tyson? May she rest in peace.
Why Cicely and not Mike Tyson? Because I’m rather fond of my ears and would like them to remain unbitten and whole.
I have no idea what I dreamt of last night but I fought with the covers, Cowboy and my nightmare of a dream the entire night.
I lazily pull myself out of the bed, push my hair out of my face and head towards the bathroom.
COWBOY: (Almost running into me as he’s coming out of the bathroom) Rough night last night? You were all over the bed.
ME: I know. I’m exhausted.
COWBOY: I hope you have enough energy to do something with that hair of yours. It’s all over the place too.
ME: Oh my Lord. Seriously? That’s what you felt the need to tell me after the night I’ve had?
COWBOY: (Following me into the bathroom) Yes, I felt that you needed to know what state your hair is in.
ME: (Picking up a brush as I’m looking into the mirror) I put the brush down and head towards the bed again.
COWBOY: What’s wrong?
ME: I’m going back to bed to punch whoever I was fighting last night in the throat.
COWBOY: Atta girl!
โTil next Sunday yโall- xo, Tammy
