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Precognition and paranoia.

As anyone who really knows me knows, I have some really strange dreams. And while I know you are probably saying to yourself, “Seriously, most people have strange dreams, you really should crank your self-importance down a few notches.” I would like to point out that my dreamworld is a twisted and bizarre place that borders on a seriously delusional complex and probably should get a DSM-V code of it’s very own. They are THAT strange. [Ok, and I’d like to point out that the very nature of blogging is fraught with self-important overtones, so there really is no need to mentally patronize me, I’m perfect aware.] But I digress.

Down the wormhole.

So the night before last I had one that made me wake up and ponder the true nature of matter, space, time, and quantum geometrodynamics and how they correlate to each other. Honestly, at this point in my life, my subconscious has to do some serious acrobatics to make me pause, but this one really did.

To give you the abridged version [because the dream isn’t really the point of this post and I don’t want to give anyone fluff material for my MIW] The Secret Service showed up at work to take me to an undisclosed location, presumably a “safe place”, and had somehow managed to get my children out of the childcare compound [the folks who could train Homeland security specialists] to stay with me at aforementioned sanctuary. It was later revealed to me that the government had access to time travel and had uncovered a plot to exterminate my entire family because, in approximately 10 years time, Shifty was going to save the planet.

All of you are probably mentally asking the same question I did, “Uh, you know she’s 2, right?” Why, yes, they were well aware of her age. However, as a part of a school science project, she apparently invented a way to engage in quantum-dimensional time shifting. [I seriously hope she got an A++ on that assignment.]

Well OF COURSE she did. In 7th grade. Makes perfect sense.

The best part is her reason for making this uber-project (complete with tri-fold posterboard display, I assume) was because her brother wanted to go back in time and meet their dad. She evidently decided she did not think it was a good idea to go meet their dad just like he was, because it would make everyone sad all over again. No matter how far back you go, he still dies. So she figured it would be a much better plan to meet their dad the next dimension over who was happy, well-adjusted, loved his family, and alive.

The science fair never saw her coming.

Now we start getting strange.

A few years ago, I had a dream that G found a way to cure cancer for his 5th grade science project because either me (or someone else near and dear) was dying of it and he decided he was going to put a stop to that immediately. And since he’s an efficient little guy, he figured he’d make this little hobby his project for the year, because who really wants to have to come up with two inspirational strokes of genius in one year.

So now we have G curing cancer and Shifty dimension shifting all before they’re teenagers. Man, I hope they don’t end up being one-hit-wonders and later in life develop an inferiority complex if they don’t manage to do anything else newsworthy. That would totally suck.

Either way, they’ll still have to clean their rooms and be in bed by 9.

Just when you thought it was ok to think again.

I mentioned this dream to some folks at lunch yesterday, but didn’t say anything else about it the rest of the day. Certainly not in front of the kids. [because I most assuredly don’t want them to think that is what I expect of them in the next few years. Talk about getting an overachiever complex.] I was just going to let it fade into amusing memory and move on with my life.

However. This morning we’re sitting around eating breakfast and flipping through some catalogs. [G’s new favorite  past-time and totally hilarious to watch.] When G says, “I wish I had a wand that would bring my daddy back, because I really want to meet him and I have a folder and a picture for him.” [No idea what the folder is about, but I’m sure we can all visualize the forlorn expression on his little face.]

Then Shifty says, “I can do that. We need a time tunnel.”

Ok, so if she ultimately makes a volcano for her 5th grade project, I will love it and praise her for her hard work. Although I’m not sure there won’t be a teeny little secret part of me that won’t be disappointed if it doesn’t shimmer in and out of dimensional reality, too.


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