Now that I am rolling in dough (think of me as Scrooge McDuck swandiving into my gleaming pool of coins) I have a babysitter who tells me her dreams. It's the best of both worlds! She's pretty serious about them. Once she was telling me about being on a double-decker bus when Sarah Ferguson (sp?) entered with a mixed-race baby in her arms and sat right next to her. I laughed and she got mad. What could I think was so funny? If she was on a double-decker bus with SF, then clearly she was in London, right? And just what was her soul doing wandering so far away? I am not one to laugh at trouble within, I assured her. This morning she told me that she went to bed late and had a troublesome sleep. In her dreams, an Ethiopian family let themselves into her house and starting doing laundry. She was fighting with them to get them to leave when she woke up. I guess since it was right here it was ok to laugh, because she was laughing herself when she finished telling me the dream.
I'll bet you're wondering if I did floss today. Wonder no more, I did indeed.