How much is that baby in the window...
One of the many, many, many things in this crazy world that can totally stress my day is having a bad dream the night before. My dreams are usually very detailed, in color, and I'm watching myself from above about ninety-nine percent of the time. Oh, and they're usually off-the-wall whack. Like this.
Mr. decided we were going to go to the pet store. He wanted a bird. Odd, I thought, because he has always expressed a dislike for pet birds, but hey, it's a dream. We enter the pet store, and in the front is a playpen filled with birds. I guess all their wings were clipped because none of them were flying away.
"What kind of bird do you want?" I asked, thinking he would choose the blue parakeet. Everybody gets parakeets as their first bird. I think because you can flush them when they die. No. That's not right.
"A conure."
"Oh. OK." In the dream, it really WAS a conure, which is funny, because I actually had to google conure to see if I was dreaming about the right bird.
He selects his conure, and we walk to the back of the store to get supplies. A cage, a wheel (?), some birdseed, and a water bottle (??). I have never seen a bird run in a hamster wheel, but I guess they do have funny tongues so a water bottle might not be so crazy.
After making his selections, we make our way back to the front of the store. We are almost to the register when he stops, sets everything on the ground, and says, "Wait. I changed my mind."
He walks back over to the playpen, only now, the playpen is filled with babies instead of birds. He selects a baby boy with blond hair and blue eyes, a little white t-shirt and blue osh-kosh overalls. He had on little white socks with red stripes on them and little Converse-looking shoes. Black. (The shoes, not the baby.)
Returning to the register with his new selection, he places the baby on the counter and the check out lady scans his arm and the price pops up and the cash register beeps. The check out lady proceeds to scan in all of his newly selected items (they just kind of appeared there). A playpen, crib, stroller, clothes, all KINDS of stuff.
"You can't buy a baby at a pet store!!!" I exclaimed.
"Yes I can."
"No! You can't. It's not legal! You said you wanted a bird!"
"I changed my mind."
"But a baby isn't like a bird. Birds die after 10 years (again, ???), babies you have FOREVER!"
"Well, people like me are allowed to buy babies here."
"What do you mean, people like you?"
"You know! Husbands who want to have more kids but their wives won't let them!"
"But you HAVE two kids. You said you didn't want more."
"I changed my mind."
"But..." I sputtered, "It's a BABY. I don't want to take care of a baby. Why can't you just get the bird?"
And then I woke up. And Mr. is so not allowed to go to any pet stores.
Mr. decided we were going to go to the pet store. He wanted a bird. Odd, I thought, because he has always expressed a dislike for pet birds, but hey, it's a dream. We enter the pet store, and in the front is a playpen filled with birds. I guess all their wings were clipped because none of them were flying away.
"What kind of bird do you want?" I asked, thinking he would choose the blue parakeet. Everybody gets parakeets as their first bird. I think because you can flush them when they die. No. That's not right.
"A conure."
"Oh. OK." In the dream, it really WAS a conure, which is funny, because I actually had to google conure to see if I was dreaming about the right bird.
He selects his conure, and we walk to the back of the store to get supplies. A cage, a wheel (?), some birdseed, and a water bottle (??). I have never seen a bird run in a hamster wheel, but I guess they do have funny tongues so a water bottle might not be so crazy.
After making his selections, we make our way back to the front of the store. We are almost to the register when he stops, sets everything on the ground, and says, "Wait. I changed my mind."
He walks back over to the playpen, only now, the playpen is filled with babies instead of birds. He selects a baby boy with blond hair and blue eyes, a little white t-shirt and blue osh-kosh overalls. He had on little white socks with red stripes on them and little Converse-looking shoes. Black. (The shoes, not the baby.)
Returning to the register with his new selection, he places the baby on the counter and the check out lady scans his arm and the price pops up and the cash register beeps. The check out lady proceeds to scan in all of his newly selected items (they just kind of appeared there). A playpen, crib, stroller, clothes, all KINDS of stuff.
"You can't buy a baby at a pet store!!!" I exclaimed.
"Yes I can."
"No! You can't. It's not legal! You said you wanted a bird!"
"I changed my mind."
"But a baby isn't like a bird. Birds die after 10 years (again, ???), babies you have FOREVER!"
"Well, people like me are allowed to buy babies here."
"What do you mean, people like you?"
"You know! Husbands who want to have more kids but their wives won't let them!"
"But you HAVE two kids. You said you didn't want more."
"I changed my mind."
"But..." I sputtered, "It's a BABY. I don't want to take care of a baby. Why can't you just get the bird?"
And then I woke up. And Mr. is so not allowed to go to any pet stores.
posted by Anastasia at Thursday, May 11, 2006
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