So I was invited to this dinner party at an Indian family's house. I'm at their front door knocking and wondering what to expect. I mean, I've never been to a dinner party at an Indian family's house. Their house was tucked in a subdivision in some suburb and their front yard looked like my parent's front hard except there were more rose bushes and less grass to mow. The door opened and it was this beautiful Indian woman. She was wearing a Sari and had a bindi on her forehead and she smiled. She was smiling at me until she looked at my pants. No! No! No! She screams in a thick accent. I look down at my pants and they're these dark pairs of jeans I love because they fit me really well and they go with everything and someone(I'm remembering in the moment of being yelled at even said they were the best jeans I even own!). "I'm sorry!" I keep saying. And all of the sudden she started speaking in a language I didn't understand and threw me her car keys and pushed me out the door and somehow without speaking the language I totally understood what she was saying. "Buy a new pair of pants, now!"

I panic because I don't know how to drive stick shift in her car that I think is a Lexus. I'm pretty sure it was a Lexus. I mean, I didn't have a chance to look because the Indian woman was still yelling at me from her front door. Then the panic started setting in. "I don't know where I am!" I started yelping while making a right turn. "I don't know what city I'm in!" I started shaking. The wheel is sort of jiggling. One turn looked like a street in Chicago. Another turn looked like I was in my grandma's neck of the woods. I looked at my jeans. "I love these jeans!" I kept saying. "Why can't I wear jeans to a Indian dinner party!" I kept stuttering. "I hate showing up to a party under-dressed!" I said trying to look for the nearest mall. "I hate the mall" I remember saying when I realized that's where I had to go to get new pants. " I hate shopping for pants!" I said crying.

Nate shakes me awake.

"What's wrong! You were having a nightmare!" He yelps in the dark. "Are you OK?" He asks rubbing my arm.

"It was the worse! An Indian woman told me she didn't like my jeans and I had to find a pair at the mall!"

Nate sighs then kisses me on my head falling back to sleep. No questions asked.