Those of you who know me well, know that I have VERY vivid and many times, crazy dreams. Well, last night, shortly before midnight, Tommy came into my room sobbing. As I consoled him and took him back to bed, he told me over and over, "Mommy, I don't like my dreams!" I didn't prod him to tell me about his dream, and I tucked him in and said goodnight. But, without prompting this evening, as we played together on the computer, he proceeded to tell me all about his dream. It went like this:
"Mommy, I was in a haunted house and a ghost came and got me. A bad ghost. He took me and put me in a big pumpkin. It had hot laba (how he says lava) in it. I couldn't get out mommy. There was laba. It was hot. Then a good ghost came and got me. He got me out of the pumpkin, mommy. Then he got the got the bad ghost. He put the bad ghost in the pumpkin with the hot laba in it. It was scary mommy. I don't like the scary dreams!"
Isn't that interesting? I can see where the haunted house, ghosts and hot lava came from because he was playing Mario Kart last night, but the pumpkin? I don't know about that! Poor kid! He's plagued with my crazy dream gene!