These Dreams
Horrible nightmares last night, for a variety of parties. Charles woke up crying around 9:30pm because of, we suspect, a bad dream, although he couldn’t put into words what the problem was. After a few minutes of cuddling with Mommy he asked to get back into bed, and did so without difficulty. Weird.
For my part, I dreamt that Charles had become unruly and ill-behaved, and it was decided, by me, that the problem was that he was Too Smart. (For unknown reasons, all these was taking place in some kind of sepia-toned office, something straight from the 50s, all wood panelling and glass.) In order to desmart him, I mixed some kind of concoction for him to drink so that it would damage his brain. Why my dream-self thought this was a good idea is unknown to me, but in the dream Charles drank it, and I instantly had Chemist’s Remorse and began sobbing uncontrollably. It was horrible. It haunts me, even now; just typing it out is making me depressed and angry with myself. ::shudder::
The other nightmare was one just before I awoke, involving venomous “spiders,” as they were called in the dream, that weren’t spiders at all, but hand-sized bugs in the shape of Imperial Star Destroyers. They were color-coded to match the severity of their venoms, which ranged from “causing severe gangrenous flesh wounds at the site of the sting” to “neurological toxin resulting in painful seizures followed quickly by death.” Annoyingly, even after I woke up and said “Wow, what a horrible nightmare!” I rolled back over and went to sleep to dream of them some more.
It was not a restful night.
