Life, Love, and Passports

The dream factory

I’m not much of a dreamer or I have no recollection of dreaming when I finally gain consciousness in the morning. I guess the bottom line is I’m too tired to dream. The thing about dreams is because it’s a private moment you can pretty much make it up as you relay it to the next person. Whenever people tell me they’ve had a dream about me it always seems to involve having another baby. Seeing as I only have daughters it always involves the addition of a son. What a laugh!

Back to the dream factory. Last night I had what seemed like an action packed dream sequence. I can’t remember specifics but I know it wasn’t from the happy department. Funny how good dreams always seem to start ten minutes before the alarm goes off while alien invasions go on all night taking you on an impossible journey. My mother always says your last train of thought or images almost always appear in your dreams. Perhaps this was the case last night so there’ll be no crime drama before bed for me.

Occasionally my girls will march over to my bed in the middle of the night having had a bad dream it seems they have figured out it is a foolproof way of getting into my bed. Ever so often they’ll announce they’ve had a bad dream a minute after lights out. Sadly that is followed by a stern instruction to go back to bed. Obviously I don’t have the pleasure of going to my mother’s room and requesting a place of comfort after a bad dream but I’m glad my girls know there is somewhere safe to turn when the shadows of the night lengthen and harmless objects appear menacing.

Today I’ve been thinking of all things beautiful and I look forward to a night of dreams on a faraway island having the time of my life. Sweet dreams!

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