Archive for July, 2006
Something New
July 29
Sorry it’s been so long since I’ve updated (how many times have I started a post with that?), but as most of you know, I’ve recently started being a stay-at-home dad. It’s a lot of work, as I’m sure you can guess, but I wouldn’t change it for anything. You can read more about all of that at The Loves.
Anyway, you’re not here to hear about that, probably. I don’t really know why you’re here. But since you are, maybe I’ll tell you about this dream I had last night.
For some reason, I was in Branson, MO, or somewhere like that. And I was a killer. Of the serial variety, I guess. Maybe not. Anyway, my partner and I had just offed someone and hid them behind a dumpster out back of a motel. I think it was a woman. The victim, not my partner. After we had stashed the body, I remember folding up a diaper (see, that dad stuff seeps into everything!), and asking my partner if I should just throw it away. He said something like “It might be used for evidence, so we’d better take it with us” and I agreed, so I tossed it in our car and we drove away.
Then that part ended (I hate when that happens), and I was still in Branson, but wasn’t a murderer. Now I was in some rinky-dink little shop with my mom and dad, killing (ha!) time until Elaine got off of work. The store sold things like wooden rubberband guns and ceramic wolves howling at painted moons. You know, the usual junk stores you find in retired cities like Branson. As I was wandering through the aisles, my parents apparently met someone they knew and started talking to them about me. I could overhear bits and pieces of the conversation.
Apparently I was an aspiring actor and these people could do something about the “aspiring” part. My parents led them over to me; it was an older couple and a younger boy (early teens). Maybe their grandson? My parents were describing me to the couple, telling them I was a good reader and that I took care of my son all day (where Monkey was at this point, I have no idea). Also, oddly, that I was a good Christian boy and that I was thin.
I had walked partly away by this time, looking at some finely-crafted snowglobes or something, and the grandson approached me from behind. He spat out two words: “He’s short!”
I turned and gave him a fierce look. Yeah, I’m short, I know. I think I growled something at him under my breath, but it was lost. Must’ve had an effect, though, as he slunk back and away. I turned and walked away from the group toward the front of the store.
There I found a glass cabinet with VHS movies piled up on top. Mostly family movies from the ’80s and ’90s, but a few DVDs scattered in there as well. I squatted down and looked in the case to find some more DVDs, apparently the more valuable ones, and some PSP games, which surprised me. What was a crappy little place like this doing with games for a relatively new (and quickly becoming obsolete?) system?
I didn’t get to find out ’cause that was when Elaine woke me up to take the baby to pee.