I had a dream about Boop last night. Strangely enough, I think this was spurred by the words of encouragement from friends and family who were anxious to see my beautiful baby, and also by the virtually indecipherable ultrasound photos of Boop. Well, let’s be honest: the baby in this dream was not beautiful. Of course, I loved her, but I was very exhausted. The child was very large (but not in the chubby-cheeked cherub, sort of way) and sitting on my knee with little assistance upstairs in my house. She had on an adorable pink dress with smocking that I recognized from when I was a baby.
Mom was scurrying around trying to clean the house, and it seemed like she was trying to avoid looking at the baby. Finally, I said, “Mom, I’m really tired. Would you mind holding her for a little while?” With that, she took a deep breath and came over to take her. Then, I woke up, only to see the episode of the Nanny where she accidently wound up with the foreign lady’s baby on the subway.
At that point, I made another trip to the bathroom and figured I would go on downstairs and have a cup of hot chocolate with lots of marshmallows. I love the smell when you open a bag of fresh marshmallows—that slight confectioner’s sugar smell. When I was little, I would sneak a bag of marshmallows and a package of saltines under my mom’s sewing machine and eat them like little sandwiches while my mom sewed. I wonder if Boop will wind up with such odd habits. If she does, then I’ll know she’s mine J
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