Is Dreaming Cheating?

My grandmother had a dream. She recounted it to me.

Under the spell of night, she had reunited slash rekindled things with her high school sweetheart - and he was looking good, if you know what I mean. 

Moving right along.

My grandma led me through the tender garden of her (re-) blossoming romance; I compared it to my orchid that I thought was dead, but now appears to be alive, thanks to a little hot glue and a carefully regimented amount of sunshine; she looked at me like I was a stranger, and then finished her love story.

At the end, we both sat in sweetly contemplative silence, until she suddenly straightened her back, shook the wanderlust from her eyes, blinked the flush straight out of her cheeks, and exclaimed, “But then I thought, what do I want with a boyfriend?! I’m 81 years old!

Uh, yeah. You’re also MARRIED, Grandma.

More contemplative silence. Slightly less sweet.

Kids these days.