I woke up this morning shaking my head. I had to clear it of the crazy dream that was still thick in my thoughts.
It went a little something like this:
I woke up on the sofa, which I’d pushed up close to the TV to make room (in the place I currently live) for a friend’s (we’ll call him Dale) piano and bass (even though he plays neither). He came in the room and sat down to talk, asking me if was ready for the holidays. (Holidays? Yeah, I guess. I could smell turkey and ham and all that.) Dale then thanked me for letting him be a part of celebration with my family and said he was just so happy that my mom had called to invite him. I was puzzled, but just nodded and said I was glad he could join us. I also warned him not to get near me because I’d been sick and sleeping on the couch for a couple days without a shower. “At the very least, I’d have to Febreze myself before you hug me. And brush my teeth.” He just laughed and went into the kitchen (but not the kitchen here) to fix breakfast.
Then a young toddler Little Dude came down the stairs (again, in the house I’m in at the moment) naked, cute little baby butt bare to the world. As soon as I saw LD, I scooped him into my arms and carried him upstairs. Upstairs, however, was my parents’ room from our second house in San Diego. Complete with pale green (celery?) carpeting, mirrored closet doors, and everything. And the rooms my sisters and I had. Except the room my little sister and I shared had another room in where the closet should’ve been.
As I walked into my parents’ room, I asked my mom where Mojo was. She told me my daughter was at a sleepover. Oh, and by the way, LD still had a slight diaper rash. I asked if we still had some A&D or Desitin and she replied that she wasn’t sure. Also, she said, “make sure you clean up after Dale. Bailing him out of jail is one thing; cleaning up his mess in the kitchen is another.” Well, color me confused. Jail? Huh? What?
Anyway, I went into the room that had been my older sister’s because, apparently, it was now the room I shared with my kids. It had bunk beds, a crib, and my old dresser and trunk. My big sister was asleep on the top bunk with a guinea pig in carrier.
Somehow or another, LD turned into a kitten and I put him up on the bed with my sister. She said I shouldn’t do that because she was sure the cat and guinea pig wouldn’t get along. Then the guinea pig turned into a kitten as well and the cats began sniffing at each other through the plastic carrier, pawing and mewing adorably. I turned around to look for the real LD, but he wasn’t there. I went into the other bedroom and called for him. I looked in the extra room (the one in the closet) and saw the bed that Dale had slept in (confusing because my little sister would have been in the adjoining room…I think) while I’d slumbered unaware downstairs.
LD wasn’t in either of those rooms. I kept looking for him, finally finding him in the drawer of my dresser where I’d gone to grab jeans and a shirt. I cradled him in one arm, my change of clothes in the other, and headed off for a shower.
I put him in a playpen in this gigantic bathroom (it was a thing of beauty, unlike any bathroom I’ve ever had) while I showered. Then I got him cleaned up and headed downstairs to clean the kitchen. The kitchen, in the meantime, had become the scene of some horrific carnage: Thanksgiving. And everyone had left the mess for me to clean up…along with a squirmy toddler and two crazy, playful cats.
And that’s when I awoke.
I think I can interpret most of the stuff, but I’m not sure how Dale showed up or why he was playing two instruments different from what he really plays. Nor am I sure I understand the extra room in the closet.
I gave up trying to figure it out. It only took me 12 hours to stop thinking about it.