So this morning, at 6am, my children gleefully skip into my bedroom and my son pounces his fists on my mattress to bounce my head awake. I send Olivia to the bathroom, find my robe, and take them downstairs for breakfast.
Meanwhile, Olivia has been begging me from before the second I opened my eyes, to please please please PLEASE let her tell me her dream.
Finally, we make it downstairs, they sit at the table, I serve breakfast and I let her tell me her dream:
Liv: “Well, Mom, did you know Papa was in my dream?” (Papa is my Dad.)
Me: “No, he was?”
Liv:”Yes, and he lived in Utah. What country do we live in?”
Liv: “Noo… uhm… what state?”
Liv: “Noo… uhm…”
Me: “Are you trying to ask what city?” Olivia LOVES to hear what city she lives in. She continues to ask despite the fact that her little brain is much too competent to not have it memorized by now.
Me: “West Jordan.”
Liv: “So Papa lived in West Jordan and Utah, and Sidney was in the bathroom, and she used WAAAAAAY too much toilet paper,” Olivia has been known to have frequent and vivid bathroom dreams, i.e. The Black Toilet Dream.
Me: “So, Sidney lived here too?”
Liv: “Yes, and she went to the bathroom and used WAAAAAAY too much toilet paper. You went in there to help her flush the toilet and it was so unbelievable – the toilet FLUSHED YOU DOWN.”
Me: “Flushed me down? Why was I flushing for Sidney?”
Liv: not pausing… “– and it flushed you down, and the too much toilet paper, and it left puddles all over Papa’s carpet. He was so angry because there were puddles all over his carpet and all over his house in Utah and he was not happy because of the mess.”
Me: “Wow. That’s an interesting dream.” Papa had a carpeted bathroom? What kind of sick “dream” house in Utah was Papa living in?
Liv: “Yeah. I just wish I could have puddles in my house. I would like to jump in them. Can I have some milk?”
Ahh… the mind of a 4-year-old.