Strange dreams again this morning. I dreamt that me, my dad and my cousin who I haven't seen in years, were all in charge of security at the Kelvingrove Museum. There was a display of rare blue diamonds we were guarding but someone kept stealing them and putting them back, moving them about and stuff. Really irritating. On a more mundane level, though it seemed equally pressing at the time, I dreamt that I had put some soya milk in the freezer and forgotten to take it out.
'I'll give you a fiver if you give the baby her breakfast.'
That was Lynne's voice. The sun was streaming through our curtains, Lynne was looking really cozy and determined to be asleep* and the baby was lying on her belly, headbutting a puddle of drool that lay on her blanket. I went into the kitchen to mix up some baby rice with mashed banana. I was really feeling the sweaty waking-from-a-vivid-dream bamboozlement. The dreams are the product of waking early in the morning and then going back to sleep, my id going wild in the extra snooze-time. The baby has been waking at about 4.30am these light mornings, depending on how much milky pudding we can shovel into her after her dinner. The more milky pudding, the less she wakes up in the night.
Of course, I have no intention of taking that fiver off Lynne. I give the baby her breakfast most mornings anyway. And of course, I know you think I'm having anxiety dreams because Lynne is going back. to work soon. In two weeks to be precise. But you amateur psychiatrists don't know it all. I mean, just because I like my CDs in order doesn't mean I like to push things up my arse.
*She later told me it was the first morning since the birth she hadn't woken up with a sore back and she was really comfy. Just think about that for a second if you are going to have a baby, folks. It will be seven months on Sunday.
'I'll give you a fiver if you give the baby her breakfast.'
That was Lynne's voice. The sun was streaming through our curtains, Lynne was looking really cozy and determined to be asleep* and the baby was lying on her belly, headbutting a puddle of drool that lay on her blanket. I went into the kitchen to mix up some baby rice with mashed banana. I was really feeling the sweaty waking-from-a-vivid-dream bamboozlement. The dreams are the product of waking early in the morning and then going back to sleep, my id going wild in the extra snooze-time. The baby has been waking at about 4.30am these light mornings, depending on how much milky pudding we can shovel into her after her dinner. The more milky pudding, the less she wakes up in the night.
Of course, I have no intention of taking that fiver off Lynne. I give the baby her breakfast most mornings anyway. And of course, I know you think I'm having anxiety dreams because Lynne is going back. to work soon. In two weeks to be precise. But you amateur psychiatrists don't know it all. I mean, just because I like my CDs in order doesn't mean I like to push things up my arse.
*She later told me it was the first morning since the birth she hadn't woken up with a sore back and she was really comfy. Just think about that for a second if you are going to have a baby, folks. It will be seven months on Sunday.
No comments:
Post a Comment