Sometimes my husband will say, “Oh, I had such a bad dream.”
And I’ll sympathize, because I, too, had a bad dream. I have nothing but bad dreams. Because he is a gentleman, he’ll ask me to share my bad dream first.
“Well, one of the children was missing,” I’ll say.
“That is bad.”
“Yes, but when I went to look for him, I heard a baby crying. I went into our basement, only it wasn’t our basement. It was cold and dark and full of cement. Cement walls, cement floors, even a dark cement ceiling. And there in the middle was a baby. Somehow we had a baby and forgot about her. There she was, left alone in the basement forever, just waiting for us to find her. And then there was a fire and I started to choke and then I woke up. What was your dream?”
Long pause. “I was late for work.”
My bad dreams are epic, harrowing, terrifying. And they’re pretty much all I have. Either I sleep soundly, no dreams. Or I nightmare. Nuclear disaster, complete with melting faces? Check. Last day of school and realize I never made it to that one class? You bet, but I’m also being chased by a murderous clown and, oh, yeah, totally forgot my locker combo. Paralyzed on the floor as water trickles in, unable to move and about to drown? Yuppers.
I don’t know why this happens to me. I’m a happy person. I don’t (think) I overstress about stuff. *Shrugs.* I’ve just always had crazy bad dreams.
So can you imagine what it was like a couple nights ago when I had an honest-to-goodness great dream? I was going for a stroll on a beautiful tree-lined street. Out of nowhere, this little Shetland pony pranced (I mean it! Pranced!) up to me. She was shaggy and brown and had huge round eyes. She wanted me to be her friend. So I took her reins and we walked together. Okay, skipped. Did I mention? I was eight years old again.
It was glorious and amazing.
And then I woke up, quick as if someone had poked me in the forehead.
Because my son was poking me in the forehead. “I’m thirsty.”
For a second, I was mournful. My first good dream! Ever! For a glass of water? Seriously!
But by the time I had tucked him back to his own peaceful slumber, I realized he had probably done me a giant favor. Because I’m pretty sure that Shetland Pony was about to turn on me. It was looking a little bitey.
What's the craziest dream you've ever had?