Han Solo

I closed the garage door with the button on the wall and walked in the house. Penny barked her stranger-danger bark from the master bedroom doorway. She saw who it was, gave a few more barks for good measure, and backed out of sight into the bedroom.

“Honey, I’m home!” I called. I set my green messenger bag I use to carry lunch to work near the kitchen table, and headed back for the bedroom. I spotted Meg lying in bed.

“I just had an amazing dream,” Meg said. She smiled.

“Oh yeah?” I leaned over and pecked her on her lips. “What about?”

“I was on a date with Han Solo,” she said.

“Han Solo?” I giggled.

“Yeah. We went to a wine bar like Armitage on a date. We had wine and cheese and snuggled,” Meg purred.

“That’s awesome!” I said.

“It was sooo nice.”

“I’m not even jealous,” I said. “I’m in awe right now.”

Meg laughed.

“Did he look like old Harrison Ford now, or young Harrison Ford from the movies?” I asked, unbuttoning my work shirt.

“He looked like you,” Meg said.

“Me?”

“Yeah, but he was Han Solo too.”

“What should I wear?” I asked, putting on my jeans. “I could wear a vest and a low-hanging belt,” I teased.

“Don’t make fun, that was a good dream,” Meg said. She laid back in bed and sighed contentedly.n Locked=”false” SemiHidden=”true” UnhideWhenUsed=”true”
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