Thoughts and Pajamas |
I dream. But I don't usually remember them. This blog attempts to document whatever happened the previous night, whether I remembered it or not. |
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in which there was a baby
My dream featured me, a baby, and wooden floors. Like a stereotypical dream, this one was a strange mix of different elements from my reality.
The room looked like the old sala that used to be in my grandmother’s house.
The baby was around one or two years old, I think, and looked like a combination of the three kids in our department at the moment. He looked like the super cute Kye, but he was reciting the ABC’s in Andi’s tune, and he laughed as loud as Ellora.
At first he was sitting on my lap (like my favorite niece usually does), before he got up and started to run the wobbly way that one-year-old babies did. And then he tripped on his own feet and fell with a shallow thud.
He remained on the floor for a few beats, blinking and letting the situation sink in. And then he sat up. He stared at the floor. And then he stood up again, and, as if he didn’t just hit his head on the floor, ran again.
(I realize now that this is how I usually was when I was a kid, walking calamity that I was.)
He fell again with another thud, only this one sounded a bit more hollow, like the low beat of a bass drum.
He got up again, and ran again, and fell again with yet another thud. This went on, each thud sounding different from the last.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
My dream at this point was a montage sequence.
Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.
And then he stopped. And then he looked around the room, his eyes calculating.
And then, with utmost precision, he ran and fell and ran and fell and ran and fell around the room, producing a song that was very much like a distinct drum beat. Like Trashin’ the Camp in Disney’s Tarzan (which, coincidentally, I listened to before sleeping).
Huh. Strange, yes? And a tad bit violent, though the baby didn’t look hurt at all. In fact, he looked like he was more interested in the sounds his falling was making. And he remembered each specific sound and which spot in the room made them.
Haha! Genius baby. If I had my way, though, instead of banging his head on the woodern floor, he’d look like this:
