Who's this person in my bed?

Every once in a while, I catch a glimpse of my future. It usually includes vast amounts of eccentricity and dementia.

I get usually get these glimpses in my sleep. Occasionally I will wake up, and my bedroom is completely unfamiliar to me.

"Where am I?" I wonder. "What's happening?" Then I will look over at Chris, sleeping soundly. But he's no longer recognizable as Chris. He's just some weird man sleeping in my bed. "Why is there a boy in my bed? And why am I so calm about this?"

I suspect it's likely one of the following: 1) an early onslaught of dementia -- and Alzheimers is on its way; 2) One of my other personalities has broken loose for a moment, and is suitably lost; or 3) My body was briefly inhabited by some kind of alien -- confused, it quickly retreats back to its original place in Mariah Carey's body.

Fortunately, even in a state of complete confusion, my body stays relaxed. So relaxed, in fact, that I sink back onto my pillows, and head back to sleep.

And in the morning, all is as it should be. Chris is back to being a human (well...). My bedroom is back to being a bedroom. And in the hazy sun of summer, everything is back to being familiar and safe... except for a nagging feeling that something in the grand scheme has been altered just a little.

(My goodness! Is that white backwards jacket for me? Oh, you shouldn't have. How thoughtful! Yes, it fits marvelously...)