Friday, April 02, 2004
Where Dad is a detective
I had a dream that Dad was a detective, and he was trying to track down this killer who was a hit-and-run-er. At the police station there was this bulletin board with all the newspaper clippings of the incidents and then notes from the person claiming they had done it. (Although the notes didn't make much sense, they said things like, "Funfun quickquick WRONG.") Every so often a police officer or Dad would go over and cross a word out with a marker, which apparently meant they'd solved some aspect of it.
Then I dreamed Dad was sleeping in his car with the windows rolled down and I went over to him and said, "Dad! I think I've got a clue!" He woke up and I pulled this laser tag score sheet out of a manila envelope and handed it to him. "I think the date March 7 is important, because that's the last time Julian went laser tagging with us!" His eyes widened and he started driving off in the car. I asked to go with him and he said okay.
As we were driving along the road, there were these girls who kept hopping into the middle of the road and doing like gymnastics stuff. We just swerved around them. Finally we arrived at this town where Dad was going to go into a saloon (er, yes, like a Western) to interview this guy. I asked if I could come in too and he said okay, so we walked into this very Western-ish smoke-filled bar with the swinging doors... then I woke up.
Then I dreamed Dad was sleeping in his car with the windows rolled down and I went over to him and said, "Dad! I think I've got a clue!" He woke up and I pulled this laser tag score sheet out of a manila envelope and handed it to him. "I think the date March 7 is important, because that's the last time Julian went laser tagging with us!" His eyes widened and he started driving off in the car. I asked to go with him and he said okay.
As we were driving along the road, there were these girls who kept hopping into the middle of the road and doing like gymnastics stuff. We just swerved around them. Finally we arrived at this town where Dad was going to go into a saloon (er, yes, like a Western) to interview this guy. I asked if I could come in too and he said okay, so we walked into this very Western-ish smoke-filled bar with the swinging doors... then I woke up.
