Dreams

Far too many nights, Benji climbs in bed with us. Usually he is just a big cuddly heat-seeking baby--as he has been from the minute he arrived on this earth.

The other night it rained and rained--so loud it woke us up, over and over again. Not gentle rain that puts you to sleep, but violent rain that sounds like your house has sprung a million leaks.

He climbed in and said:

"Mommy, I have been dreaming. Bad dreams."

"It's OK," I mumbled.

"What are dreams, Mommy? Are they just pretend? Are they real?

"Dreams are stories that happen in your mind when you sleep," I said. "They are not real."

"Oh."