I had a bad dream this morning. It wasn’t scary in the typical sense but it sure was unnerving and creepy. And I know from whence it stems…or something, but that doesn’t make it any less creepy.
In my dream, I woke up this morning and realized that I hadn’t seen my baby in a few days and I wondered if he must be hungry (In real life, I was asleep and I do not have a baby). I walked out into the living room to see a lovely baby boy crawling out from behind the loveseat. I sat on the floor and picked him up and thought in passing that I should get a cool cloth to wash his sweaty, sticky face and perhaps I should change his diaper. I scratched his back and ruffled his hair and although he did not seem any worse for being ignored for several days and living behind the love seat, I woke up (in real life) horrified.
Yeah, not having any babies any time soon. Yeesh.
Actually, I suspect the dream is related to the fact that my cat (who is neither a baby nor a boy) is suffering the side effects of her asthma medication, which makes her behave like a gothy little teenager and hide behind the couch. When she does come out she is surly and gloomy so we have been showering her with extra love (which like, totally embarrasses her! Can’t we see she just wants to be LEFT ALONE in her room with, like, the radio on? And why can’t she pierce her nose? Everyone else is doing it…jeez.). I suspect seeing her emerge from beneath the couch last night (when she won’t come out, I like to beat on the cushions and yell, “TURN DOWN THE CURE AND STOP SULKING OR YOU ARE GROUNDED!”) and feeling bad for her discomfort and worrying that I wasn’t paying enough attention to her triggered the dream. Well, either that or it is my realization that I could make a very bad mother.