Yes, I know that’s the title of an old western movie, but I couldn’t think of a better title. I haven’t had my coffee yet. Sue me.
Last night my subconscious went to work once more, proving yet again it has a sense of humor but also takes immense pleasure in my pain.
The dream all started so innocently. Baby C, Baby A, and I were heading to a fair at the school. For some reason the me in this dream let C drive even though he’s 11 and can’t reach the pedals. Maybe he had wooden blocks tied to his feet a la Shortround. As I said, my subconscious has a sense of humor.
For some reason the car we were in was a manual and since C couldn’t reach the clutch I was, from the back seat somehow, operating that pedal for him. I have no clue who was manipulating the gas and brakes. I guess dreams aren’t required to make sense.
So we pull out of this parking lot (which is covered in snow) sideways because…snow. I looked to the right as we slid into the street, worried a car would slam into us. Luckily, no cars had been coming. Things progressed fine, if not abnormally, as we drove to the school. After all, I was still operating the clutch from the back seat.
When we got to the traffic light right by the school, there was a school bus parked on the side of the road. C, being the ADHD king that he is, cried, “School bus!” and leapt out of the car while it was still moving – to go get on it, I guess. Meanwhile, I was left trying to climb from the back seat to the front in a moving vehicle, desperate to stop it before someone (namely myself) got hurt.
I blinked and woke up wrapped in a sleeping bag, sprawled out on the living room floor of my old townhouse. My mom was standing over me, leaning on her cane. “You’ll never believe what your grandson did,” I started, and then proceeded to tell her about how my insane child wildly evacuated a moving vehicle because he saw a school bus, which is sadly plausible in real life, by the way.
That, friends, is where my subconscious started to get dark. The longer I spoke the more heavily my mom leaned on her cane. I saw it coming, but couldn’t move fast enough to stop it. Mom collapsed to her side and hit her head on the couch.
Unfortunately, collapsing is something that happened to her frequently in the last couple of years of her life due to her inability to control her blood sugar. I helped her back up and then had a huge breakdown. I’m talking water works like an amusement park. Ugly sobbing and an awful wail. I knew the outcome. I knew how her story ended. She was going to die.
Mercifully, that was the time my alarm went off and woke me from this horrid experience.
I hate my subconscious.
Mental Defecation 