Saturday, September 5, 2009

The Chalk-Faced Baby Dream

Saturday, Sept. 05, 2009, 1:30 AM

I woke up after having a very weird dream. In the dream I had arrived for a hair appointment. It was in a tiny room, almost like a bathroom. The haircutter was a child of about 9 years old. She was trying to cut the hair of a toddler, about 3 years old.

The toddler was fidgety so I picked her up and put her on my lap. She had a football shaped head with a nasty gash on top closed with a dozen staples.

The toddler immediately leaned forward and started straining. I knew she was pooping her pants.

I stood up with her and her clothes instantly disappeared. Yellow-green poop was running down her legs and puddling on the white tile floor. I had poop all over me too.

I yelled for the haircutter girl (who had also disappeared) to get a mop and clean up the floor. She and two other kids started mopping up with a Swiffer Duster.

The toddler morphed into a little baby with a normal head. I plopped her in the sink in some warm water to wash her. She got the biggest smile on her face. She really liked being held by me and being in the warm water.

But her face was chalk white without any hint of pink. Her eyes, nose, and mouth were all like a living marble statue. There was a small brown smudge on the side of her nose as if it had been chipped off, just like an ancient statue.

I realized she shouldn't be sitting the the water unsupported so I held her under her arms. When I touched her she arched her back and threw her head back. It lolled around and her eyes rolled back too. I realized something wasn't right with this child, maybe she was blind and deaf. That would explain the all-white eyes.

I snapped my fingers above and behind her head. She got a puzzled look and turned her head and unseeing eyes toward the sound. Ah-ha! She's blind but not deaf.

I lifted her from the water and looked around for a towel. The tiny bathroom dissolved and we were now outside on the grounds of a large institution - a boarding school maybe. There were towels hung draped over the wrought-iron fence where the children had left them after swimming.

I pulled a green and blue towel from the fence and laid the baby on it. She wanted to be held and started to cry. I realized the towel wasn't full-sized. A strip had been torn from the long side...all the towels on the fence were narrow like that.

As I tried to figure out how to wrap the baby with this narrow towel, she cried even harder. I tried to soother her by saying, "There, there, Puddin'Tater, I'll pick you up once we get you wrapped and warm."

I arranged and rearranged her and never could figure out how to get her wrapped. She was crying so hard she was screaming.

Then I woke up.

I really shouldn't eat cold pizza as a midnight snack.

1 comment:

john.p said...

That's one strange story. . . but you already knew that.