Friday, February 4, 2011

The Types of Dreams I Dream


I am having people over.  I have a huge indoor pool and there are many children and a few adults swimming in it.  I have a friend with three children under 17 months old, all single births.  (I know, she must be magic.)  The oldest is a boy, then a girl, and then another boy.  The oldest one’s name is Dean, and he can swim.  As we chat, he swims across the pool. 
We continue to visit.  Suddenly, Dean is on the bottom of the pool and his mother dives into the pool in her long white flannel nightgown.  While she is pulling Dean up from the bottom, I send another person inside to call 911.
  When we get Dean out of the water, he has shrunk to about a foot long.  I begin performing CPR on him, watching his little chest fill with my air and fall back down.  I am remembering that he doesn’t need as much air as an adult, and try to keep my puffs tiny, even though I am in panic mode and my breathing is awkward.  We keep watching for signs of life, and at one point I feel him move a bit, but he’s not really responding.
When a policeman, (not firemen or paramedics) arrives, he just takes the baby from me, who has now shrunk to about 2 inches long, and puts him in an envelope.  He asks who called 911, because she gave him the wrong directions and it took him a long time to get here.  He is dressed in a tux and has his date with him, who is dressed in a long, sparkly, green dress.  She sits on the edge of the pool with her feet in the water while she waits for him to finish his work.
I feel that we need to discuss the baby, but he seems more concerned with the stupid broad who gave him bogus directions.  He says the baby, being only two inches tall, wont take up any space and he’ll just toss it.
The baby’s mother is in shock or something, because she just takes her two remaining children, and goes home to tell her husband, who is a DEA agent.
The policeman decides that she is the reason her child is dead, because when you have three little kids like that it’s too much trouble, and if you only have two hands and all, then what are you going hold on to that third kid with, your teeth?
Another woman at poolside who works with Dean’s mother, begins to tell the cop that she probably did let him drown.  I try to tell the cop, who is now in the water conducting tests, that Dean's mother loved him and that other woman  just didn’t like anyone there because no one would go to lunch with her. Then, thank heavens, my dog woke me up.

It’s a wonder I can carry on!  I’m exhausted.

3 comments:

Keetha Broyles said...

Some of my dreams are so x-rated I would shudder to repeat them.

And that's the TRUTH.

Vivienne said...

Good grief. Now I'M going to have bad dreams. ew.

My Crafty Little Page said...

I'm amazed you could write that so it made sense! I've never tried to do that.
I'm exhausted, too! Take some benadryl tonight...with some wine...and a xanex!
xoxo Nancy