The best husband goes out in the middle of the night to photograph a bicycle.

I dreamed my bike was stolen. I woke up panicking, sweating and breathing fast. “Rachel? Are you ok?” my husband asked worriedly.

He must have understood some of my incoherent response. A few minutes later he woke me up again and showed me his phone. There was a picture of my bike in the shed. I was terribly confused, because I didn’t realize a few minutes had passed or that he had even gotten up, and the majority of the picture was of the basket on my bike and it kind of looked like a grocery cart.

Finally I woke up enough to figure it out. It helped that he patiently and repeatedly explained using simple sentences. The picture he was showing me was less than 5 minutes old. He had gone outside, unlocked the shed, and taken a picture of my bike to reassure me that it was still there.

“Oh,” I said.

“And I locked the shed again,” he added.

I’m glad he said that because that was going to be my next question.

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