A couple of weeks ago I woke from a dream crying. Not just wimpering, but full-out sobbing. I don't remember ever doing this before C and I got married. The first time it happened (yes, it has happened multiple times) I was having a dream where one my nephews had all sorts of boils all over his face. I woke up bawling and had to have C console me. It was horribly tragic. I couldn't even tell Emily about the dream for a long time because I didn't want her to think I was some sort of prognosticator. I'm not; the boy is still as adorable as he was when I had the dream.
However, the most-recent dream wasn't nearly as sad. In this dream, my parents' house in Sandy was being invaded by little elves. They started by taking bites out of sandwiches, while invisible--whoa. Then they appeared in the corner and ordered us to get everyone together. I knew I had to get my cell phone (I mean, why wouldn't I need my cell phone?), but it was in the car. When I went outside to get the phone, I learned that my tires had been slashed, along with a couple of other cars in the parking lot. A guy there told me that the cops had already been called. But I was torn because I knew the elves would be mad if I didn't return quickly! The next thing I knew, I was sitting in my car when the Club (you know, the anti-theft device thingy) was magically raised and pointed directly at my head, like a gun would be. I was freaking out because I knew I had angered the elves. It was scary! Then I woke up crying. When I told C the dream, he just mumbled something and rolled over.
The honeymoon is officially over.