Momnesia

Nightmare on Ruby Street

Augusta, Ga. - Emmie begins shrieking from our bedroom, where she landed after a nightmare last night.

"MOOOMMMM! MAMAAAAAA!!"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"I'm stuck! An' I'm skeered! An' I hab a bad dream!"

I untangle her from the blankets and carry her to snuggle on the couch. Girl has morning breath that might set my hair on fire, but I'll risk it.

"Tell me about your dream, Doodle."

"Wull, I dream dat Daddy eat a bad fruit dat mate him die an' den his neck turn into a stick!"

Whoa. That mental image freaks me out, too.

"I'm sorry you had that scary dream. But it wasn't real. Daddy's fine."

"Wull... Where is he?"

"He's out in his car, doing traffic reports."

"Can we call him?"

"Um..."

"PLEEEEAAASSSE!" she shrieks, desperately. Okie-dokie, then.

I call and get Scott on the phone, and he chastises me for calling during one of his reports. Em gets on the phone and wails her dilemma.

"Daddy! Daddy, I dream dat you eat a fruit dats bad an' den - an' DEN - your NECK turn into a STICK! An' den you became EEBIL!"

There is a brief pause while Scott decides whether to laugh or tell her to grow up. He chooses neither, and sympathizes appropriately. Em has a moment of further hysterics, and then takes a deep breath and makes a visible effort to calm herself.

"So I'm jus' checkin' on you," she finishes. "Can you come home?"

Em cannot be satisfied until she sees him, and runs to hug him. He turns to leave again, and she hugs me.

"I'm so happy dat Daddy's neck is not a stick an' he not eebil."

Aren't we all.

Sent via BlackBerry from T-Mobile