His Dream

I love dreams. I have always been a very frequent and vivid dreamer of pleasant, not-so-pleasant, fantastic and bizarre dreams. I can usually remember at least one dream a night, sometimes carrying it with me throughout my entire day.

What I love most about dreams is they are our own. No matter how hard we try to explain them, no one else will ever see what we saw. They are solely ours.

Andrew and I have the same conversation each time he wakes up. I ask him if he slept good and he says yes. I then ask him if he had any dreams and he says no.

Today was different.

I came into his room at 7:36am to wake up the sleepy head so we could try to make it to church by 8:30am.

I rubbed his back gently and his eyes shot wide open
Andrew: Momma! I was something!
Me: What?
Andrew: I was something! I went something!
Me: You went somewhere?
Andrew: YES.
Me: Where did you go?
Andrew: I was in a huge pile of leaves and my crocs fell off into the water and I jumped into the water and opened my eyes and saw the sun and lots and lots of fishes.
Me: Wow!
Andrew: Then I closed my eyes up to the top of the water and Daddy and Mr. Chris were there and I open my eyes and saw you by my bed.

Ah...his first dream he remembered and was able to tell me about.
I'm writing it here so I remember.