All but Daryl were enjoying some cuddles this morning. As Jane joined us, I asked if she had slept well. She replied that she had not and proceeded to tell us about the nightmare she had had just before waking. This caused Hal to “remember” his nightmares and he jumped to his knees to tell us about them.
In his best spooky voice and with eyes as wide as saucers, he began. “I had this nightmare about… a zombie! And he ate my braaaaaaaaaaains! Ooooooooooooh!” He loomed over me with his arms in the air.
“And then I had another nightmare about a big zombie. He ate my toe and then I farted on his face and he DIED!
“And then I had another nightmare about a BIGGER zombie that ate my finger and then farted on me and then I farted on him and he DIED!”
“Well now I know how to handle zombies,” Jane commented. “I just need to have Hal fart on them.”
My husband and I were smiling and laughing silently, while Jane was laughing loudly. Hal picked up he had a receptive audience and continued with glee, bouncing on the bed and flailing about as he demonstrated how each zombie died (the death throes were massive).
“And then I dreamed about this big HUGER zombie that was bigger than the whole… EARTH!” He leaned in close to my face and whispered dramatically, “It was bigger than this house, but not bigger than the bigger, biggest buildings.” Sitting back up and thrusting his arms in the air, “but it was bigger than the earth! And it ate my baby but then I punched it in the face and farted on it and it died!
“And then there was the evil monster! When it attacked, it was killed by the big… dinosaur! Oooooooh!
“And then I had another nightmare…”
“I think this boy sleeps too much,” whispered my husband in my ear. I smiled and listened to the dozen or so supposed nightmares as the boy frolicked across us on the bed.