This past week while my parents were visiting, my mom told me a funny story about a dream that actually changed her. She said that around the time I was born, they had just started using handicap parking spaces. She didn’t take them seriously at all, and considered the fact that she had two children under the age of 3 to be her handicap so she parked in those spots at will. Then, one night she had a dream that God spoke to her. He asked her if she considered her children to be a handicap in her life.
“Uh, no, sir,” she responded.
“Well then maybe you should quit parking in those handicap parking spaces,” God said.
And she did. She never parked in another handicap space.
I thought that story was so funny and so silly. I mean, who really changes their behaviour because of a dream? And then I had this dream last night, and now I totally understand.
Lately, I have been eating nothing but crap. I can’t tell you the last time I had a piece of fruit or a vegetable that wasn’t drenched in butter or wrapped in bacon. I have just really been craving crappy food. Pizza, Taco Bell, nachos – I’ll eat it all. Especially McDonalds. And I don’t even LIKE McDonalds.
But last night, I had a dream. I dreamed that I had my baby and when they placed him in my arms, I put my face down to his and just inhaled his good baby smell. Only, he didn’t have a good baby smell. He smelled like McDonald’s french fries. I kept sniffing around to see what else that smell could be coming from, but it was definitely coming from my baby. And then all the doctors and nurses started smelling it and no one wanted to hold the baby because he smelled like a Fry Daddy. Even Chris was like, “This baby smells funny.”
I think that’s a dream I should pay attention to. If I don’t start eating better, the signs are very clear. I am going to give birth to a McDonald’s french fry.