Somebody Tell Me Why!

Every single time I dream of home, I dream of our old trailer. I don't think I ever dream of the place where we live now, and have lived for six years now. Eight out of ten dreams the people I dream about are younger than they really are. The other night I dreamed that my niece Emily (who is really 17) was a toddler and her "Bubba" (who is actually 16)was a newborn. I was in high school, my brother in college, my Grandma Stovall still alive and my Dad drove that old brown Ford pickup. Which he drove down a steep hill in reverse. Last night I dreamed that my nephew, Sage, was a toddler and he made a HUGE mess in my house, my trailer, that is, with flour, salt, sugar, powdered sugar, and basically anything with a powdery consistency. I mean the stuff was in piles everywhere. Corn meal, too. I wanted to shake the tar out of the child, then shake his step Dad for not paying better attention to him in the first place. Each room had these ingredients all over the floors and piled up to 6 inches in every corner.

I think I might need a shrink. I could keep one busy by just telling them my dreams from every night.