Thursday, July 26, 2012

Inside the Minds of the White House: Part 2

Dreams.  The sleeping kind, not the life-goal type.
#2 is sweet to let #5 cuddle.
(He's not strangling her, I promise.)
Am I the only one who doesn't want to hear anyone else's dreams, but who likes to tell others my own cool dreams?  I think there are two reasons for this.  First, when someone else wants to tell me a dream, it usually becomes obvious in the re-telling that the dream was too wacky and didn't make enough sense to be worth re-telling.  But, second, I so rarely have interesting dreams that when I do, I want to share it.

I have bored myself awake at least half a dozen times that I remember.  Dreaming about watering the houseplants just isn't as exciting as actually watering them I guess.  I type this at 4:24 a.m. after waking myself at 2:15 from a dream in which I was shopping at DI.  ~Snoozer!~  (Or, rather not, since I'm no longer snoozing.)

Kent frequently dreams about saving the world or being a secret agent or a battlefield hero.  He used to share his dreams with me, but has mostly given that up since I clearly don't care about his motion picture-worthy slumber adventures.  (Or maybe he doesn't want to make me feel bad about my lame dreams.)

#1 has not yet internalized that I don't want to hear her bizarre dreams, either.  But maybe the world does.  After repeating her dreams in mind-numbing detail to her sisters, her friends, and anyone else who will listen, she turns to the computer and turns them into novellas.  She has six such in the works.  Maybe I shouldn't scoff, though.  She might be the next Stephanie Meyer, who was inspired by dreaming of a glittering man.  If #1 ever publishes one of these books and then signs a corresponding movie contract, I'll eat these words.

Last week at breakfast, #1 was telling #3 about a dream within a dream where her friend had dreamed the same dream.  (She hasn't even seen Inception yet.  Hmm...maybe her dreams are movie worthy.)  I was cleaning up the meal and had the "pleasure" of experiencing her long-winded dream for about 20 minutes.  #3, who is slow-going in the morning, sat through the whole re-telling.  When #1 finished, #3 remarked, "I never have time to have that much happen in my dream.  I usually dream about myself just standing around waiting for the dream to start."  Upon clarification she confirmed that yes, she literally dreams of herself just standing there for a very long time, then the dream gets going...and that's usually about the time I wake her up to start the real-life day.  Poor kid.

If dream material is genetic, then I guess we know which parent passed on their dream traits to each daughter!

1 comment:

mindy said...

Ha ha! I have had a lot of boring dreams lately, too. It feels like such a waste!

This line cracks me up, "who is slow-going in the morning". I think you could safely leave out the last three words. When we were leaving Seven Peaks this last week, you might think it was my 3 year old who was the lag-behind, as he has the shortest legs, by far. Nope, it was your #3, whom I have decided is physically incapable of doing anything that would be convenient for anyone else but her. And she wasn't lagging by just a few feet. If we hadn't stopped and waited, we could have all been out to the cars (which were a ways out in the big parking lot) and she would have maybe been exiting the park gates. :-)