Monday, January 28, 2008

Weirdest Dream In a While . . .

Perhaps it was that Ava Grace had a world class stomach bug/flu yesterday that saw some of the scariest vomit I've ever seen run from her little mouth and saw us run through eight sets of pajamas on Ava, six outfits on Joy, three outfits on me, nine bath towels, three blankets and a hard-to-explain-how-it-fits-into-the-equation pair of gardening gloves OR perhaps it was the fact that, to sooth her devil-tummy we watched Noggin for 16 straight hours yesterday OR perhaps it was the fact that Joy and I are both sick again ourselves so sleep itself has been in short supply and high demand at the house as of late but I had a dream last night that could only be described as "weird." Allow me to digress . . .

I had a dream last night that the entire world was made of candy. Not just in that "marshmallow world in the winter" or "Candy Land" sense of the idea but more in the first scene inside Willy Wonka's Candy Factory sense. EVERY THING was edible but not for those of us who have had gastric bypass surgery (or those of you who battle diabetes either). Cars were made of Peeps. Clothing was made of finely woven Twizzlers. Windows were made of sheets of hard candy. Phones were made of chocolate. You get the point.

FOR THE RECORD - there were plenty of parts of my "brave new world" that were GB appopriate. Tree bark was made of lean, high protein white meat. The freshly white-washed houses of College Hill were actually Egg White-washed. Magazines and other periodicals were printed on reduced fat Triscuits and Starbucks served a large variety of fat free milk concoctions.

But this sort of dream, in itself, is not THAT weird. I have had the "the whole world is edible" dream thousands of times. In my favorite version the world is made entirely of Fritos, Cheetos, Doritos and HoHos (all my formerly favorite Os).

No - what made the dream head towards weird was that Mika blared through the air (no matter where you were) at all times and no one seemed to notice, except me.

What pushed the dream in to official weird was that no one was super skinny or fat. No one abnormally tall and no one "short." No one ever seemed calm or settled and yet never seemed anxious or agitated either, uh, except me.

What ensconsed the dream in weirdness was that every person I know, have ever known (it's good to have you back with us, Grandmas Amore and Coyle and it is good to get to know you, Grandpa Coyle and to meet you Grandpa Amore) was living in our neighborhood here in Wichita.

The ENTIRE neighborhood was sort of Sean Amore This Is Your Life gone bad/wrong. Vicki, Debby and Rich Morse were lifeguards at the pool at College Hill Park (as they were at Sykes Park back in the day), Justin Williams and I would play tennis at the courts well in to the night (as we did in high school), Drs. Chris and Michele Delenick and their two kids and Mr. and Mrs. Delenick and Mr. and Mrs. Biermann and Karen and Tim Mayo (Michele's sister) and Drew and Darren all lived on North Fountain Street. Father Eagen and Father Lou split duties at the Catholic Church. "Caneyehelpya" manned the grill at the neighborhood Panera. Ben Mufti was the head trainer at the local YMCA. Tom Kelly was the emcee at the local comedy club. Eric Baldwin lived two doors down with his life partner (his name was Todd) and their three brown labs. My brothers (and Joyell and Ryan's new girlfriend who I think goes by Heather) lived over on Vassar in matching cottages. Mrs. Satterly decided to come out of retirement and she taught Ava in 5th grade (another great job helping an Amore find their happiness, Mrs. Satterly - thanks) and Gordon Levitt, a Scottish kid I worked with my first summer at Camp Barton lived two blocks over too.

We all got together the first Saturday of every month. We would take over College Hill Park (we were the neighborhoods only residents so no one really complained) and people would eat the trees and the grass while the kids played on the candy playground and Joy and her "Baltimore Crew" (they were all living with us too) would dance to Mika's My Interpretation while they got a buzz off their candy-flavored cocktails. We'd all take turns playing Mini Golf (the only sport I have ever exceled at that didn't require hours on a couch and cause thumb blisters). We'd laugh and dance and eat and drink and tell stories about life and everyone just got along so swimmingly with our cookie-cutter bodies and shared life.

It was both wonderful and scary at the same time.

I don't know how the dream really ended or what the point was.

I was kicked to the groin at 3:37 AM CT by a feverish Ava who had decided that her sleeping in the exact middle of our bed on top of the blankets was the only way that any of the three of us would get any sleep last night.

I sat up - rubbed the blanket to make sure it was not made of buttered-bread. Kissed Ava and Joy on the cheeks and went back to sleep where I proceeded to dream about competive lawnmower racing.

That's a dream for another day!

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