Hey. Remember me? I know. It’s been a while.
Anyway, I have a story for you. Ready?
A weird thing about me is that I very rarely remember my dreams. I’d say, like, once every three or four months I’ll wake up and remember dreaming. The rest of my life, it’s just dreamless sleep.
Well, this morning I woke myself up yelling. And oh my goodness. I will tell you the dream, but please don’t judge me. Just help me figure out what it means. Because I’m stumped.
My family is at my parents house. We’re all hanging out and it’s my sister Ellie’s birthday. And also her baby Micah‘s birthday as well. (How this is possible, I don’t know since Ellie was born on May 14 and Micah was born on May 20. Anyway.) Everyone is sitting at the table and I am over in the corner. I am wrapping Micah up in a large piece of wrapping paper. Just have him sitting in the middle of the paper and am taping up the sides over his head. I lean over him to grab a side of the wrapping paper and and I do, my mom yells, “Becky! What are you doing?! Your …! (Editor’s note: insert female body part that rhymes with hippo … sort of)” And I am like, “Mom, relax. I have clothes on.” But she is really, really mad.
Well. That set me off. I am furious. Shaking mad. Spitting mad. I can’t even say anything, I am so angry. So I walk out the front door. In bare feet. In a snowstorm. I stalk up down the front walk and start down the block. (Towards the sumo house. Somehow, though, my feet weren’t cold.) Suddenly I look up and there are three very large Great Danes.
They are attack Great Danes. (Um okay.) They are moving like lions, circling their prey. And they are huge. They are able to jump, like, 20 feet in the air. The only way I can think to get away from them is to climb one of the tall pine trees. (The ones on the other side of the driveway next to the Kreuger’s house.) They don’t have branches until, like 25 feet up, so I have to shimmy it like I am climbing a palm tree.
So the first Great Dane reaches the tree and suddenly turns into a very short person and starts climbing up after me. As his hand comes near my foot, I slam my heel into his hand and he falls. Right at this moment, my dad saunters out of the front door and sees what is going on. By then I realize the other two Great Danes have also turned into short people and have climbed the other tree next to the one I was on. One of them flings himself over to my tree above where I am holding on, hangs by his legs as if over a trapeze swing, and the other one grabs his hands in a sort of acrobat-like move.
I see that my dad had just meandered over to his convertible and is just watching what is going on. I start yelling, or trying to yell, but of course, I am hoarse, “Dad! Dad! Dad! DAD!”
And that’s when I wake up.
Any ideas what the heck all this craziness means?