Sparrow starts the night in her little bed….and, often, sometime during the night, pads over and crawls into bed with us.

Her bed is in our room….so the walk for her isn’t long.

Most nights I hear her laughing in her sleep.

Some nights, she cries out….a little afraid.

This night (because it’s still night….I’m up but it’s only 5), she cried out, I patted her, she said, “Dad….” and then she said, “I’m scared…”.

Of course, she’s only recently 2 years old, and doesn’t speak as clearly as I can spell, but that’s what she said.

She may be a genius….but sometimes it’s a garbled kind of genius.

It’s a “2-year-old genius”.

She’s asleep again with Momma in the other room now.

Dreams are so funny.

Dreams aren’t real.

That’s a fact….dreams aren’t real.

Huh.

Dreams aren’t real….but we wake up crying out….or even just wake up crying, sometimes….and then we ponder them for a while.

We treat them like they’re something that we need to learn from.

We’re afraid of them like they matter.

They’re less than ghosts that come from our thoughts….and they scare us sometimes.

That’s goofy….being scared of things that aren’t real.

I guess that you can learn something from a dream.

They come from inside our head….surely, they must have something to do with us….even if they aren’t real.

But….the things we actually do….or that are actually done to us…now that’s real.

These dreams…not so much.

Waking life….that’s where it’s at, when you get down to it.

Dreams are entertaining….and enlightening….and maybe they springboard us to innovation and new ways of seeing our “woke up reality”…but they shouldn’t keep us up at night….terrified or sad.

I guess that the only thing that matters is what we choose to do with our dreams.

Dreams aren’t real.

Go back to sleep, Sparrow.

Sweet dreams.