Dream Lover

Anyone who knows me relatively well can tell you that I tend to have odd dreams. I chalk it up to an overactive imagination, which is fun and convenient during waking hours, and but can wreak havoc in the middle of the night. Just ask any of the girls who were on a houseboat with me during my youth group's summer retreat in 1997. Let's just say that the middle-of-the-night episode in question began with a dream about a large snake, included lots of screaming (first on my part, then on everyone's part as each sleepy mind created its own fantastic reason for my screams), and ended in complete and utter chaos until our counselors could get us calm and back to sleep.

When my dreams don't involve giant reptiles, they've been known to include uncovering terrorist plots of which Emma Thompson is the mastermind, purchasing rodents for a meal who were such foul creatures that their souls had to be sucked out before consumption, and so many marriages to different mystery grooms (whose faces I never seem to see) that I must live in Utah in my dreams.

One of my most recent dreams touched on the grisly topic of murder. Though most of the details were lost, thankfully, to the mists of whatever dreamworld I inhabit (is it misty in Utah?), I distinctly remember kneeling next to the murder victim and weeping uncontrollably. What I didn't realize at the time (and didn't recall until the next morning) was that the murder victim was Junior Asparagus. Yes, Junior Asparagus from Veggie Tales. Needless to say, this recollection turned an intense dream into an intense fit of giggles. Thank goodness for a crazy, overactive imagination can turn scary dreams on their heads!