Olive Garden Pasta Pass
by Andi Lutz
Bathtub of Soup
I did fill the bathtub with soup, not the whole bathtub, I don’t have that much soup. Let me back up and start from the beginning. I have night terrors and I sleep walk. I have done this since I was young. I still do it, some nights I don’t, some nights when my mind is full I am more active in my sleep.
When I dream and wake in the middle of the dream I can remember most of it. The night I filled the bathtub I had gone to Olive Garden with my Pasta Pass. I wanted to get soup, but I also wanted salad. I could only choose one, so I got the salad because it’s so delicious and my favorite, I get it every time. Then after I ate my fill of salad I wanted soup, but my pasta came out and it looked so good that I forgot about the soup.
Well, my brain didn’t forget about it when I went to sleep that night. From what I can figure after I woke up and saw the mess I had made this is what happened. I fell fast asleep with a belly full of yummy Olive Garden and started to dream. There were breadsticks sticking up everywhere out of the ground. I’d take a bite of one then turn around and there was another one right next to me, so I’d take a bite of that one. Then all of the sudden the breadsticks popped out of the ground and started running away. It was like a huge herd and I was running in the middle of them trying to catch one because I was still hungry. The herd of breadsticks slowed down and started gathering around. I pushed through to see what was going on and they were grouped around a pond that was filled with chicken and gnocchi soup. Umm, yum.
Some of the breadsticks were taking a dip. I crouched down on my knees and scoop a hand full of soup and slurp it up. Wow, it’s warm, like it just came fresh from the kitchen. I scoop some more out and gulp it down. Hmm, why not, I stand up and jump right in with a few of the breadsticks. This is great, and probably so good for my skin, but also very tasty.
Then I feel a tapping on my shoulder and I’m suddenly yanked out of my dream. I open my eyes to the bright bathroom light glaring at me and my husband staring down at me sitting in the tub, in my pj’s, and some cheapo, not Olive Garden, empty cans of soup laying on the floor.
“What are you doing?” my husband asks.
And that’s how it happened. Next time I’ll get the soup.
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