I had some very weird dreams last night, and after the alarm went off at six, I rolled over to try and catch some more Zzzz's, only to have another odd dream, so I gave up and got out of bed.
It's probably my own fault for eating dinner very late last night. No doubt it was the raw onions.
I won't recount everything, mostly because I don't want to be reminded of the imagery, but let me just say that in the menagerie of freaks and scary things that made cameos last night, the creepy guy from Lord of the Rings was featured prominantly. You know, the little guy who says "My precious."
I decided to throw in the towel when in my dream I went to the bathroom, and a little tiny toy soldier-height marching band followed me. I wasn't going to be able to top that, so here I am at the computer.
I was going to write about the silly things that we all did as kids, and we revisit later through our own kids. Remember counting how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop? Remember those pots of paste from kindergarten? I loved to smell the paste, and I had classmates that ate it! Gross. I probably destroyed thousands of brain cells inhaling the fresh dittoes we got in school.
The other day I had one of those laugh out loud blasts from past, complete with a post-modern awareness of discourse, when Jonathan peeled the little Chiquita Banana sticker off the banana and stuck it on his forehead. Remember doing that as a kid? Me too! I think everybody did it.
Here's the funny part: read the sticker on the boy's face.*
* "Paste sticker on forehead. Smile." Chiquita
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