4/22/2006

A Real Dream with a Tasty Candy Coating

I had the weirdest dream last night. I dreamt that I was a kid still living in the house on Brown Street where I grew up. The house was a little different of course like those things are in dreams. The front yard was identical though.

Anyway the dream was about snakes – being overrun with snakes. The house was being bombarded and they were all trying to get in the front door. I often saw snakes in my yard as a kid. Maybe not often. But at least once a summer I would see a garter snake or two. Never two together only one at a time. But in this dream the yard was covered with pairs of snakes – two black snakes, two rattle snakes, two pythons. It was like my house was Noah’s Ark for snakes and they were coming in twos to get on board.

We tried to keep them out, but it was no use. They were everywhere and they were finding ways in, filling up the hall, and making their way to the living room. That’s where my family had gathered. We all ran to the couch. It was a sofa bed and it happened to be opened up in its bed form, which was convenient since there were five or six of us trying to sit on it to get off the floor. From the couch we could see out the front door and into the yard. This is one of the ways the dream house was different from my real childhood house. You couldn’t see the front door from the living room. They were separated by two doors and a large foyer. It made sneaking out undetected easy the one time I did it.

Anyway, from the couch we could see the yard and the streams of snakes making their way into the house and straight toward the living room. It was then that I realized my cousins John and Jake were on the bed with us. I was happy to see them at first. They didn’t visit often, but we always had a good time when they did. Then I noticed that they weren’t talking and they seemed a little plastic. Not like plastic. More like marzipan. Textured. Powdered. Do you know what I mean? Fake. I shifted positions on the bed to get a better look and accidentally bumped both of them. The slight bump knocked both marzipan cousins off the bed into the growing pit of snakes covering the floor.

They hit the floor and poof. They changed into snakes. Black and white striped snakes. They had been imposters. Oreo Snakes, my dad told me.

That was it. I woke up.

I think I should stop going to singles bars.

5 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I haven't read the word "overrun" in awhile. Thanks.

The Noah's Ark for snakes sounds like a fun place to avoid. Thanks.

Funny that you end this story with a line about singles bars. Thank you. The effect is heightened by the title of the blog. I'm your husband.

12:08 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I read your story. I liked the way you related your earlier years and the memories of the "Brown-street" days. I had similiar experiences of sneaking-out in the same town.
I did enjoy your story and got a good laugh out of the last line.

9:00 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

snakes in single bars!

10:47 PM  
Blogger activated charcoal said...

tempted to make the obligatory "snakes on a plane" joke, but will abstain...

12:26 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Can I play Put Put with you sometime?

11:51 AM  

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