When my parents were here over the holidays, I found myself retelling a story from my youth of how my mother forgot me at soccer practice, so I had to hoof it to the town library, beg a quarter off the librarian and call home for someone to come get me.

Then my mom chimed in with how, one time, the entire family was ready to sit down to dinner, all except for my brother who was a no-show.  Mom reminisced that she grew increasingly frustrated with bro (why would he miss dinner?) when she suddenly remembered she had forgotten to pick HIM up from wherever he was!

[By the way, Mom & Dad – that was a fun visit.  That part about all the cold and snow was a bit of a drag but everyone balancing swords on their heads New Year’s Eve was HI-larious!  And for the rest of you reading this, no, I’m not joking about the swords.  There was even some belly-dancing.  The Class Historian has already submitted proof pictures to the yearbook.]

Since that wack walk down memory lane, Sissy can’t get the concept of a mother forgetting her child out of her head.  You could say she is horrified by fascinated with the idea.  So much so that she’s begun having dreams about it.  She told me this morning how, in her dream last night, I dropped her off at Amanda’s Pet Barn.  When I didn’t come back for her, she called her father to come get her.  But he said he’d be at work for TWO MORE HOURS!  No worries, Sissy confided to me, that was ok because there were bunnies at Amanda’s Pet Barn.

Ooooh ho ho, Sweetie!  That’s SO clearly a dream.  Because in real life?  When you’re trying to reach someone to come pick you up??  It’s cold and dark and you have no money and cell phones haven’t been invented.  Also?  There are NO bunnies.  Never bunnies.