Skip to main content

basiliskamanders

I have phenomenally weird dreams.


Last night I was Betty Suarez again.  But this time Betty/I was in high school.  And I/we were also some kind of Buffy-esque type super hero.  Except way dorkier. 

We were the absolute nerdiest nerd that could also kick bad-guy butt.  And also we owned a metal detector that helped us in our escapades (because all super hero dweebs need metal detectors).

Except, since my dreams are pretty much stupid, I had to just replay the same scene over and over instead of have an actual dream that, you know, played out into different scenes.  So really there was just one bad guy.  And I only saw him for like .3 seconds each time the scene would start over.  But this bad guy had a really huge snake, which was who I really had to fight.

The snake was like a cross between the Harry Potter basilisk and a big slimy salamander.  So I had to worry about him eating me AND dripping his nasty slime all over the place.

In the scene, there was a little boy, whom the snake was after, hiding in a bath tub in some crappy old house.  And the snake comes, is about to eat the little boy, but just as it goes to strike I/Betty cut it's head off with a big shiny sword.

And then the dream starts over and does it again.

Until it changed. 

Betty/us becomes just me.  Regular old me.  And instead of the little boy hiding from the snake, it's all of my kids the slimy basilisk-salamander wants to eat.

So since I've gone through this thing quite a few times, I know I need to hide my kids in the bathtub of the old crappy house.  So, good news, we're already in the house.  So I'm getting them in the bathtub, and none of them are taking me seriously.  At all.

Opie's like, "But I have to POOP!" and gets on the toilet instead.

And Monkey's like, "Blabberblabberblabber gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!!" because he never holds still, and there I was trying to contain all his monkey-ness in a bathtub.

And then Two Bits starts in with her, "I think we should do this..."  and  "This is this way because of this...."

So then I'm like, "GUYS! THERE IS A GIANT SNAKE THAT IS GOING TO COME EAT YOU."

And they all just look at me like, "yeah, sure Mom."  Because I've clearly joked around about this kind of thing too much with them.  That, and lately the whole "mind your mother" thing is just not happening.

So there we were: me trying to wrestle my kids into a bathtub (and silence) with a basiliskamander about to burst in at any second.

Except first a family bursts into the room.  With their dinner.  And suddenly the bathroom is also the dining room.  And this family is all "la-dee-da" and sitting down to their mashed potatoes.

So I scream, "DOESN'T ANYONE REALIZE THERE'S A GIANT SNAKE HERE?!"

And the family's like, "Woah, there's people in our bathtub."

And that's when I realize I don't have my Betty Suarez snake-head-removal knife.  So I snatched a wimpy little steak knife off the table, and tell the family to get me a bigger one.  Which earns me puzzled looks from all involved.  Because, by this time, my kids are joining everyone at the dinner table.  (Except for Opie who was still sitting on the toilet.)

I finally convince someone to fetch me a real knife, but while she's gone, guess what?  Yeah, the baskamander comes barreling into the room.  It rears up it's ugly slimy head (with fangs) and is about to strike at my kids when I'm hit with the horrible realization that I'm no longer nerdy superhero Betty Suarez, I'm JUST ME.  With a little wimpy steak knife.

So I close my eyes and I lash out with the knife (in a rather ungainly way)....

...and the snake's head falls to the ground, totally separated from it's body.

I open my eyes and I say, "THAT was it?  That was all it took?  REALLY?!"

And then the woman (the one who was supposed to bring me a knife) comes back into the room WITH A JAR OF PICKLES.  Because, she says, "I thought this would be better than a big knife, dear."

But when she starts dripping pickle juice on the beheaded baskander it starts regrowing another head.

Because apparently pickle juice can bring big scary basilisk-salamander-hybred-dream-snakes back to life.  Who knew?  Well, know YOU know, so you should probably pass that information along accordingly.

So anyways, not wanting to relive that whole scene again I hurried and cut off the growing head before it could eat any of my kids.

And then I woke up and realized I had totally overslept and had exactly 16 minutes to get all four of my kids ready for school.

GOOD TIMES.

Comments

laugh.sing.love said…
wow that dream. lol I don't think I've ever had a dream quite like that. Well there was that one time that it was the end of the world and things were falling from the sky and we had to run to a underground shelter and then I woke up ... I think that was a result of too much Fallout: New Vegas.. lol
elesa said…
Oh, my dreams are always like that! I don't mean specifically, cuz that would be weird, but I am always trying to tell everyone something really important and I can never get anyone to LISTEN to me!
Chels said…
I'm pretty sure I'm mostly impressed at how well you remembered your dream. I think I probably would have remembered the jar of pickles - or some other completely obscure part, if anything at all. You know those moments where you see someone/thing and you're like "Waaaait a minute, I had a DREAM ABOUT THAT LAST NIGHT."

Or maybe that's just me.

Popular posts from this blog

I am an artist.

I really am. But not one of those deeply moving, "what do you mean you don't understand my painting, it's BLUE" kind of artists.  I'm more like one of those "oh hey, a pen and a napkin, doodle doodle doodle" kind of artists.  Because I do it for fun.  And yeah, for money.  But still.  Fun....most of the time. But I feel like branching into new mediums.  Do you know how long it's been since I painted?  Like with something other than finger paints or the kids' water colors where all the colors are mixed so they just come out brown anyway? It's been awhile.  I've been itching to paint for months. I've also wanted to let Monkey loose on a canvas for awhile.  He's not like my other kids (who all carry mine and Husband's arty genes) who like to draw endless pictures of unicorns, princesses, transformers or dinosaurs.  Monkey likes to feel his art.  He'll probably end up being one of those deeply moving types.  And I'

I won't be offended if you answer NO to the question at the end of this post

So this post will probably lose me a lot of respect and friends and possibly even a few phone calls to the Health and Welfare department. But I just feel like posting it, it's kind of like saying it outloud, but without having to watch someone's face react to the horror. And today, I really feel the need to say it outloud. So if you read this and don't feel like being friends anymore, I get it. With everyone's kids going back to school (and our school district being the last to start in the entire world, so I'm still sitting here dealing with summer child overload) I keep reading the posts about how mothers are sad to see their kids go, and how much they're going to miss them, and how much they absolutely love motherhood. Want me to tell you what I think about motherhood? I hate it. There are times when I hate it more than any other thing on the planet. And there goes most of my friends. But I'm sorry. I do. I hate being a mother. I don't hate my c

I'm not fat, my scale just hates me.

That's what it is. It's probably an evil scale anyway.  Always lying to me.  Telling me I'm fat. The worst part about it is that the scale has also convinced all the mirrors in my house to play along.  And I know it got my pant size on board ages ago.  It's also managed to get the camera to cooperate, even though I treat that camera like one of my dear precious children.  And this evil, hateful scale has attached a big mound of blubber right on my midsection. Well guess what scale - I hate you too. ***************************************************** I think showers are a waste of time. You get in just to get all wet, emerge dripping, get a nice clean towel wet, redress yourself, figure out something to do with your crazy 'just got wet and now it's going to dry ultra fuzzy, don't even think about using a blowdryer' hair, and put on all the makeup that you just washed off even though your mascara could probably have passed for a whole extra d