Harry is taking me up into the air once in a while and it looks really high up. I'm not deathly afraid of heights or anything, but we always manage to get back on solid ground before I get too scared. But not this time. The hugest tree I've ever seen. He thought it would be fun to go that high. So he takes me in his arms and up we go (how, I don't know - so don't ask). Sidenote: love his arms. Moving on ... err ... up, that is. I am freaked out. I have no idea how high he's going, but he's looking pretty excited to be going up so high. I start mimmering and feel a little sick, and finally get out the words (this is when the person at the bottom of the HUGE tree looked like an ant and I could see the top of the tree), "okay, that's high enough!".
He says, "Okay, here we go!" And I am not kidding you, I feel a lump in my belly move all the way up to my throat and I'm hanging on by the end of his shirt at this point for DEAR LIFE. We are ziplining to the ground. Not a straight down fall, but going at about a 38 degree angle... F-A-S-T. I scream the piercing kind of scream all the way down to the grass. Seemed like eternity to get there. Oh, the lovely grass. Didn't hurt to land. Then instead of beating him with any energy I had left, I kissed him - a lot.
Then his pocket made noise. Why? His grandma was calling his cell phone. Thank you Grandma for waking me up. I go into the kitchen feeling a panic in the depths of me and still trying to open my eyes. Harry is leaving for work and laughs at my plea for life at 5:30 am. Please don't do that again, honey! Poor guy. He's endured me actually hitting him when I wake up becase I was so furious by what he did in my dreams. Poor, poor guy. My constant vivid dreams are rarely a good thing. So needless to say, I will not ever - in - my - life go parasailing thank you very much. I'll be the ant by the tree.