This will take some explaining, but it sure was funny.
Let me set the stage. In our home we have wood floors that run from the front door, down the hallway completely covering the kitchen and dining room ending at our bedroom. Over the last 8 years water from the dog bowl has basically ruined an area about the size of a door mat. It was only a natural move for us to cover this area with a rug in order to hide the ugliness until we redo the floors completely.
However, after Julie removed the mat the other day she immediately realized that was a “bad idea jeans” move; the floor looks way worse. It was wet, moldy looking in some spots and boards were sticking up or pealing back. It was an ugly, scary looking sight. In a last ditch effort we placed a box fan in the area to dry up the wetness with hopes we could avoid having to do major repair work right now. We will see.
Now, for the other part of this story.
Both of our 5 year old twin daughters have started having these “night terror” dreams. Not fun for anyone. They awaken in the middle of the night screaming bloody murder causing the entire southern region of Mansfield to bolt up out of their beds with personal protection devices armed and ready for action. Seriously. When I say scream I don’t mean a little “ahhhh!” We are talking Nightmare on Elm Street levels of fear bursting out of their throats.
Hearts pounding we both usually leap out of bed (and I do mean leap!) and run to the stairs where they are usually standing at the top screaming and crying saying “I had a bad dream!” Honestly it is kind of sad because we all have had those “bad dreams” but it’s just such a violent way to wake the family at 3am nearly every night.
But last night topped them all.
About 3am our night of deep sleep came to a crashing halt. Screaming was taking place within our very room! Hearts in throats we scrambled out of bed thinking we had just been raided by 3 foot curly blond home-invasion criminals. I was reeling with thoughts of getting my gun, or a knife, whatever thinking I was about to have to go into my powerful, much practiced, terminate the enemy, defend-the-family mode.
I had been in the middle of my own amazing dream – running on the beach with rock hard abs while bikini babes chased me, yelling my name, wanting me bad – when my mind made the realization that the screaming I was hearing was coming from the mouths of babes, just not on the beach! Julie’s intense dream of cooking me the best homemade pizza ever was interrupted too as the screaming filled our ears from just a few feet away.
Within seconds our arms were around them both. Chloe was the most upset.
“What is wrong!” I asked.
“I had a bad dream,” Chloe said sobbing and shaking like a leaf.
“You did?” I said. (Julie was consoling Sidney)
“It’s ok baby. Calm down.” Her intense shaking and crying continued. “It’s gonna be alright.”
“We all have bad dreams honey,” I said. “It’s ok. Mommy and daddy are right here.”
We carried them into the living room, making our way to the couches, both still sobbing. It was obvious it was a bad one. This was going to take some time to get the place back in order. My own dream was on hold for at least another hour.
Wondering what her dream was about, I pressed her for details. It surely had to include some scary scene from a show we had watched, or a monster from one of their Disney DVDs. It was bad whatever it was. Might even include some Bigfoot fears passed down via my DNA.
“Chloe, what was your bad dream about,” I asked.
She mumbled something between a sob.
“What?” I asked again.
“I had dreamed about (mumble),” she said unintelligibly.
Not wanting to get her fear activated again I gave it a few minutes.
Then finally I asked again and her answer was more clear though I was confused as to what it sounded like. I thought I heard what she said but I just had to clarify that I heard her right.
“Did you say you had a bad dream about the floor!?”
Shaking and sobbing still, she replied as serious as her little self could.
Need I say more. I am still laughing now.