Early Sunday morning, the sun was still slumbering.
So were we.
Slowly, sounds knocked on my conscious.
Opening my eyes seemed to bring the noise into focus.
I perched myself up on my elbows, turned my head to look at April and immediately became alarmed.
Her eyes were closed, but she was gasping and making whining noises.
She was dreaming. And crying.
"Hey," I gently tousled her hair. "Apes...Apes - are you okay?"
Slow stirring of her arms and head.
"April, wake up, honey. Wake up. What's wrong?"
In a voice that could have come from a five-year-old, she said, "I had a bad dream!"
"I know," I said, truly concerned. "What was it?"
Still upset and in a groggy state, she explained what caused her such unrest.
"A friend was over at the house and for no reason at ALL, he dropped acid on our hardwood floors!"
"Huh?" I truly couldn't compute.
"He did! He spilled acid on our floors and there was nothing I could do. I just had to stand there and watch as the floors I spent a fortune on dissolved right in front of me. It wasn't fair! Acid even got on my face!"
"And your face is second to the HARDWOOD FLOORS?"
Still whining, she replied: "I just figured my skin would grow back. Those floors were expensive and I had to move everything out of the rooms! EVERYTHING."
"Okay, April. Night Night."
Nightmare. On April Street.