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I somehow missed the gene most of my family has for vivid dreaming. My dad could write novels out his dreams and possibly outsell Stephanie Meyer. Did you all know that’s how the Twilight Saga was born? Probably, you did. I basically dream about tornadoes and generally I’m not even scared. No bestseller coming out of that plotless heap of wind and dirt. Wizard of Oz has been done.  Anyhoo, I seemed to have passed the vivid dreaming gene on to the children.

I don’t often tell stories about Magnolia (she’s 9) because she’s a very careful child. And a sensitive one. She’s definitely the most affectionate person in the family. Often, there are gentle and charming negotiations on how long of a tuck-in she can have on a given night. Last night we settled on a medium tuck-in. After the usual round of questions, how was school, blah, blah, I asked her if she’d had any interesting dreams recently. I’d never actually asked this before, figuring this is something most people offer up with the same urgency as celebrity gossip. People are very into their dreams!

Me: So, have you had any interesting dreams recently?

Magnolia: I had a gross one.

Me: Okay. Tell that.

Magnolia: Well, I was being chased by these really big giants and I found a good spot to hide where two walls were touching. There was a woman giant with me. She wasn’t chasing me. I was scared and I had to blow my nose really bad, so I asked her for Kleenex. Giants have big, ya know, clumps of snot, and they don’t give you clean tissues.

Me: Yuck. What did you do?

Magnolia: Well, I really had to blow my nose. So, I used it. It was gross.

I’m totally going to be asking this question more often. What do  your kids dream about?

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