Playing Favorites


My oldest daughter ET (age 18) is going to school on the mainland.

We hadn’t seen her since summer, so of course we were all glad when she was coming for Christmas vacation.

Little Girl was particularly excited. “ET is my favorite sister!” she enthused.

“Really?” I said. “Why is she your favorite?”

“Probably because I don’t see her much,” Little Girl admitted.

Well, that’s pretty insightful for a six-year-old, I think!

Dumbest Injury EVER

I hurt my arm.

At the mall.

Shopping at Victoria’s Secret.

I know. Talk about first world problems!


But the line was really long! And I was holding slippery lingerie! And my arm was in the same position for like thirty minutes!

Yeah, I know. Completely lame. What’s next? Carpal tunnel from swiping my credit card?

But my arm was sore for over an hour after I left that store…


Whenever anyone tells me they had a dream about me it feels a bit awkward. Unless you’re my very close friend or immediate family member, I really don’t want to hear that I’m populating a dream of yours. Sorry.

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It’s kind of creepy to think of yourself walking about in the subconscious mind of someone else, I guess.

But ironically, this aversion doesn’t stop me from wanting to tell other people, “I had a dream about you last night.” Go figure.

Maybe it’s because these nighttime visions feel so very real to the dreamer; we seem to all have a strong desire to share them with others. Also our dreams seem to be so interesting, especially to ourselves.

I’ve written before about how I can even be angry at someone (usually my husband) for something they did in my dreams. Click here to read about that.

So the other night I had a dream about a friend that I thought she’d love to hear about. I imagined she would think it was such a funny story.

Here’s the story: I was eating at a restaurant and my friend and her husband, a military chaplain, were at the next table. Suddenly her husband’s assistant appeared and told him he’d been requested to preach his next sermon at the chapel naked.

He looked surprised, and asked his wife for her opinion on the matter. She was indignant. “Absolutely not!” she said. “That would be inappropriate!” He looked at the assistant and gave a little shrug. “You see? I can’t possibly preach a sermon naked.” he said.

The assistant turned to leave. But the chaplain called her back. “Wait,” he said. “Unless that’s an order from the Colonel?”

I woke up with that punchline in my head, and chuckled to myself, imagining relaying the whole story to my friend. Boy would she laugh, I thought!

Fortunately, however, I did not see my friend that morning. After I’d had time to think about it, I was horrified at the idea of relaying a story to anyone that involved the phrases, “I dreamed about,” “your husband,” and “naked.”

I mean, if I find it creepy to have someone tell me they dreamed something perfectly innocuous about me, why on earth would I think it was appropriate to tell anyone this crazy dream?!

So, of course, I didn’t tell my friend.

I just decided to post it on the internet…