"I had a bad dream, Mommy." he told me.
Andrew and Aidan are the monsters and scary bad guys men; Andrew sleeps with the twins ever since he started reading ghost and supernatural stories and Aidan occasionally falls out of bed when fighting off particularly gruesome monters in his sleep, but this was a new one coming from Matthew.
He looked so sad.
"Why don't you tell me about it, honey. Sometimes that makes you feel better." I told him.
He very earnestly related the following dream:
"Daddy brought home three chocolate Easter bunnies for a treat."
(Uh oh, three, I thought, alarms immediately going off in my head.)
Slowly, very seriously, Matthew continued:
"And then he gave one to Ryan."
Oh. The agony of early childhood.
Slower still: "And then he gave one to Andrew."
A pause, some choked sobs, before he bravely continued.
"And then he gave one to Aidan."
Big breath, looking me squarely in the eye
"And there wasn't any Easter bunny for me."
WORST DREAM EVER! What do you say to something like that?!
|Hard to stand out in this crowd.|
If I'd read it in a book I'd say it was too obvious to believe. But really, I don't make these things up. I don't have to!
And so I hugged my Easter-bunniless child and made it better. (I reassured him that that would never happen.) An hour later, when I asked him to tell Daddy his dream, he had already forgotten it.
Damon told him we would have shared the bunnies equally, even if we had to bite their heads off to do it. THAT, as it turns out, was the right answer, severed bunny heads apparently being immensely reassuring to an insecure five-year-old boy.
|Making cookies with Mom!|
As I tell Andrew when I kiss him before bed - you'll need something to share with your therapist later on!