We can't go on together...with suspicious minds

I woke up this morning after an entire night of whacko dreams -- dreams of complete jibberish and nonsense -- so profoundly messed up that I couldn't recall a single memory of one. I woke up confused, with my motor neurons firing at a rate lower than some meth amphetamine addicts. I could barely speak English when I sat up from my slumber. It took me two and a half minutes to figure who June and Zoey were. I thought I was made of plastic, or perhaps that I was Elvis...same thing.

Ughh.

When the clouds passed and the sun peeked through I realized I wasn't a figment of my own imagination, and that June was my wife, and Zoey my beautiful daughter...I was in my bedroom, and the world was just as it should be. The Michigan Wolverines are 4-0 and Mackenzie Phillips is still creeping everyone out. Both my grass and hair need cutting and all I really need is three beers to feel like dirt (Disclaimer: 16oz beers). James Brown is still dead and we have no milk in the fridge.

Whew.

We spent most of the evening with friends last night and Zo was perfectly delightful. She played well, she spread herself around with a sort of reserved abandon, if that's even possible...and she bathed and bedded down in a strange place with little, if any, more fussing than she does at home. Solid performance there Bub. You did good.

Our highlight of the night came when our friend Stephanie (who awkwardly revealed that she would leave her husband for Justin Lukach, a cohost of the Outdoor Life Network's "departures" show) made reference to Zoey as being delightfully "suspicious" all of the time. We rolled in the kind of laughter that is so absolutely justified that it gives you a migraine. "Suspicious" seems a funny adjective to describe Zo, but it's probably a pretty accurate one. She is a rather thoughtful and I suppose, suspicious child. She tends to evaluate people and situations, not excessively, in fact, she's typically pretty quick about it but she does indeed look "suspicious" most times. I was assured by all of the women in the room that as far as a daughter was concerned that was a really good thing. I agreed.

Now I have the urge to play the song "Suspicious Minds" every time I see Zo eyeing something up...this really weird Elvis version from 1970...yeah, that one, where he just gets flat out crazy after the 1:40 mark. Either way that's stupid...both Elvis and the notion of re-playing that song every time Zo gives something a look.

Welcome to my Sunday and thank you...thank you very much (insert strange lip snarl).