Marshmallow

“Did you hear about the man who dreamed he was eating a big marshmallow?”
“No, what happened?”
“He woke up and his pillow was gone.”

That’s a joke I learned when I was nine-years-old. Funny then, corny now, but still enjoyable in its simplicity.

Fifty-one years later, I have a rather risque return on this same joke. And depending how blue your sense of humor is, you may find it funny, you may not – either way – consider yourself warned.

It was vivid dream, a sex dream, where I was committing cunnilingus on a woman. As I was doing this I recall, inside my dream, tasting what I thought was a dry tampon and that this taste was manifesting as bits of cotton in my mouth.

Waking up a few minutes before my alarm, and still more asleep than awake, I could actually feel small pieces of roughage in my mouth. So I got up and went into the bathroom where I proceeded to rinse my mouth.

The second that Scope mouthwash touched the tip of my tongue I winced in pain, but I continued rinsing anyway. At the end, I saw little flecks of dark fiber in the basin and upon inspection of my tongue, a large reddish raw spot on the tip.

I knew immediately what had happened.

By this time Mary was up and straightening her side of the bed. I quickly joined her, attempting to hide the large wet spot on my pillow.

But she saw it anyway and asked in a not-so delicate tone, “What the hell happened to your new pillow case, Tom?”

Trying not to seem too flustered, I quickly lied, “I was dreaming that I was eating a huge marshmallow.”