I my sixteen years of life living under Mom's roof, I have experienced much. The death of a friend, the isolation from family members, Fred the Step-Grandpa, Europe, Yosemite, a cabin on the beach pier...
Yeah, it's been a good life.
However, sometimes, even when I'm in such beautiful places and with wonderful friends like those above, there's a certain highlight of the day. It's not common nowadays, but it's there. And those are Mom's dreams.
Very, how you say, curious dreams, you can say.
Why for example, in one dream, Mom killed all the Jedi because of a scratch she found on her Mustang...
They...did this. To my mustang!
Mom, the Dark Lord of the Sith, sat there, staring on the silver-colored hood of the car she loved so much. It was her baby, her Ford Mustang, her pride and enjoy. It was the very first thing she bought when she finally had money in her pockets. Tinted windows and everything.
And it had a scartch on it.
It wasn't incredibly noticeable. Long, but thin. It could have been easily covered, if she actually thought on it. But she didn't. All she could think of was that "they" had done it.
Those danged Jedi.
Slowly, the brown-haired woman turned, her lips contorted into a smile the Devil himself would be afraid of. Obi-Wan was there, looking at her with concern and confusion in his eyes.
"Mom..." he took a tentative step forward, hands up in an attempt to calm her nerves. "Mom, is everything --"
He never finished. With a scream fit for a Holler Monkey, she sprang, a red blade cutting clean through the protagonist hero of the Star Wars universe and destroying the saga forever.
Good times, good times. This was the first dream Mom ever told me about, I think, before her nighttime sleep became known for the peculiar images running through her head. After the Jedi slaughter, she started speaking up more about her dreams, seeing as we found them amusing.
One time, when my dad was going to court, she dreamed of sheep and paper bags...
"Mom," the judged slammed his mini-hammer down on the circle thing. Mom didn't know the names of them currently, too pre-occupied to find out what the fine would be for her stupid husband's actions. "If you want Mr. Dad here to go free, there's a favor to be done..."
"How much money?" Mom asked, her hands rubbing the hem of her shirt nervously as she looked from Judge to Dad. Judge shook his powdered-wig head.
"No, Mom, we aren't asking for money. We need you to..." He exchanged a glance with the jury beside him, the faitist smile of wickedness coming across his wrinkled face. "Put sheep in paper bags."
Mom didn't even question it. How could she? He was superior to her. o she went out to the grass fields beside town (I'm laughing now because there's a desert where we live, no grass and certainly no sheep) and did as she was told.
1. 2. 3 sheep in a single paper bag
4, 5, 6, lets make em' fit.
7, 8, 9, 10, fluffy cloud things who worship the Giant Mush, into the bag you go.
She kept going until all 47 sheep were in the paper bags, then returned with them in tow. So surprised and completely unawares the woman was just insane, the judge let her husband go purely because he was shocked.
Another time, and perhaps the last I will mention, is one of the most fascinating, I think.
Mom was at a baseball game of sorts when suddenly, avocados started falling on her head....
Menacing laughter reverberated throughout the auditorium. Mom's the only one there, shaking in her shoes, popcorn falling to the ground piece by piece as a wind blows through the stadium.
She feels something land on her head. Not a raindrop. Much too heavy to be a raindrop. A rock? No, too heavy. Then what....
Oh.
An avocado.
This wasn't right.
More and more fell on her, and she was so paralyzed with confused fear she didn't move away. From a voice that seemed to come from the stormy clouds over head, Mom heard: "You must win the game, or the avocados will not stop falling."
"Pardon?" Now Mom was just getting irritated as a video game fell into her lap. The clouds repeated:
"Win the game to lose the 'cados."
"What game?"
"THE GAME!"
I actually don't remember the Avocado Dream much, or how it ended. I know there was avocados and a game.
What I wouldn't give to have Mom's dreams analyzed, if only for the sake of enjoyment.
And might I add, these aren't even half of her sleep-induced adventures.
AN: Mind you, these drams are all true. Like, my mom's insane enough to have these wonderful dreams. 845Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqCgXljdQ0D
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