World, I've been sucking at parenting lately and it is all your fault. Yes, YOUR fault.
If you're one of the guilty people, that is.
To determine if you're guilty or not, think back. Have you ever started a story with, "I have to tell you about the dream I had last night ..."? If so, GUILTY! You're especially guilty if you posted a tale of your dream to social media because I had far more patience before social media ruined me.
I just ... can't. I can't get into talking about dreams. I'm referring to the deep sleep ones, of course. If you want to tell me about how you dream of becoming the first female representative in your voting district or first person in your family to get a master's degree or whatever, that's awesome. I'll listen to those kinds of dreams all day long. The sleepy dreams, though? ::yawn::
I need a nap just thinking about it. And not just because I'm functioning on 4 hours of sleep. That just makes it even worse than it already is.
I get it. Some people are really super interested in dreams. They like interpreting dreams, talking about dreams, and even hearing about dreams. I am not those people. I stop listening after about the fourth word and even that takes a lot of effort on my part.
Mila doesn't get it. I haven't bothered to try to tell her for obvious reasons, so there she is. She's over there telling me all about every dream she's ever had and in excruciating detail. For what it's worth, mostly she dreams about something bad happening to her sister or about one of her toys disappearing.
(Don't tell her that the toys disappearing thing might be reality. SHHHH! Unless you can get her to care enough to clean up after herself, that is...)
And I DON'T CARE. The kid tells me about ten different dreams twenty times each day and I am bored to tears each and every time. It's terrible parenting, but it's what I've got. Someone needs to tell the kid that talking about dreams is dumb. PLEASE.
