another dream

I remembered another dream. From last night. 

So, it seems like there was more at the beginning that I don’t recall, but what I do recall started with my having a son. I didn’t give birth, but I think I had a wife. Or maybe a girlfriend. I’m not sure, because she wasn’t really in the dream, that I recall. But the baby was born and someone handed it to me. He was beautiful, and I cried and felt proud. 

And then somehow we skipped ahead to when he was starting school. So that’s good. Skipped all the diapers and potty training. Yay. 

For some reason, I was going back to school, and started on the same day as “ma boy”. And for some strange reason I was going back to school at the same school as “Chris Junior”. (His name was NOT Chris Junior. In fact, I don’t know if he had a name. He must have, but I don’t know what it was.) So, “Little Chris” started kindergarten—without crying, ‘cause he’s strong and awesome—and I started whatever it was I was doing at the school. It would make more sense if I were teaching or something, but it doesn’t seem like that was what was happening. 

Um... Argh. There was something else that happened next, but I don’t know what it was anymore. I knew it when I woke up and was thinking about the dream, but now I can’t remember. 

I’m gonna go lay down in my bed for a minute to see if comes back to me. 

.   .   .

Well, no luck. It seems like it was something that changed the tenor of the dream. 

But I did remember that the school was not a “normal” school. There were other adults there, maybe not my age—more like young adults. And this was a school that included kindergarten through college-age folks. And it didn’t have the usual structure of consecutive “grades” (first, second, third...freshmen, sophomore, etc.), nor did it have classes separated so distinctly by subject matter. It was a place where people went to learn stuff and/or to teach stuff. 

Sounds like an interesting place. Yes, one day my brilliant and talented son, “Biff”, will find this “school” and go there.

.   .   .

Oh, wait! “Bill”! That was his name. 

(“Bill” was NOT his name.)