I just have children that give me nightmares.
Last night, out of the blue, Midge tells me that she hates it when people kiss like this . . .
And then, with closed eyes and slightly upturned chin, she makes that big puckered up fishy face and begins smacking out kissy noises all over the place.
“You hate that, huh?” I asked.
“Yep,” she explained, “It’s like they are giving each other the dementor’s kiss, but just that they don’t suck out each other’s souls.”
“Oh. And you hate that?”
“And where have you seen people kissing like they were giving each other the dementor’s kiss?” (Heck, she’s never even see any of the movies with a dementor’s kiss).
“Well, just on t.v.”
“What show did you see that on?” (we really don’t let our kids watch t.v. much beyond PBS, so I’m still a mite confused about all of this).
“It wasn’t a show, it was just a commercial. And a man and a woman looked like they were giving each other the dementor’s kiss, but they weren’t sucking each other’s souls out. Because, that’s what a man and a woman do when they love each other, they kiss like dementors but they don’t suck out the souls.”
Indeed. Seeing as she is only four, I didn’t have the heart to tell her that sometimes they actually do suck out each other’s souls.
So, after that conversation, I had a dream last night that two morbidly obese men with thinning hair and ill-fitting, green T-shirts were giving each other some on-camera tongue for a burger barn commercial.
At least they weren’t peddling Valtrex.
And George, if you’re out there, Tewt the Newt says hello.