The dream wasn’t about the pregnancy though, it was about my baby shower. For some reason, I was planning my own shower.
The sticking point seemed to be the mariachi band. I didn’t want them to come hatless. If there was going to be a mariachi band, “they are going to wear the god damn giant sombreros! The little dangly balls would be a nice touch.”
Having finally found a band that would do as I suggested, (wear the hats and play every time I opened a gift), I moved on to the next item on my “must have for the shower” list – the cake! The only thing I kept stressing to the cake maker is that “there must be two babies on it, each in the diaper, with the bonnet and over-sized accessories, like you see on tv.”
Then I flashed to me being on the phone. I don’t know who I was talking to, but I was very adamant (as opposed to Adam Ant) that there were to be “a flock of storks” and that they had “better be real and not shit all over everything.”
The next few flashes in my dream were just me on the phone. I don't know what I was doing or who I was talking to. I was just yelling. A lot.
Then suddenly, I was at my shower. I was as big as a house, the mariachi band was doing a splendid job and the caterer was about to deliver the cake.
The caterer came in, dressed like Captain Hook. He was accompanied by a bunch of storks. Real ones. There was no stork shit in sight. Captain Hook was carrying my cake. He set it on the table.
On the left was a baby, in the big diaper & bonnet as requested, but instead of a pacifier, it had a cigar in his mouth and the face of Fidel Castro. The other baby was the same, except it was the face of Saddam Hussein. Both were sitting on nuclear warheads, with one hand in the air, as if they were riding bucking broncos.
Everyone was silent.
I
was
so
incredibly…
HAPPY!
was
so
incredibly…
HAPPY!
“It’s perfect!” I declared. My guests all applauded. The mariachi band played. And we danced.
And just like that, Jerry’s snoring woke me up. Do you think shoving cotton balls in a sleeping person's nose is mean?
What do you make of that dream?
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