So I put you to bed, and predictably, you woke up after a few hours and were confused and mad as to why you were being comforted by this vaguely familiar stranger and not your parents. Thankfully we got home shortly after the sobbing started, and your father calmed you down and put you back to bed. I knew that was going to happen, and I knew you were fine, but I felt a little bit awful anyway that we had allowed you to feel abandoned.
Yesterday I commented on someone's blog about how I rarely dream about you. And what is up with that, is there something wrong with me?
And I think the answer is that I vent my angst out here so it doesn't show up in my dreams, just as I haven't had a single zombie nightmare since I confessed my fear on the other blog. But naturally last night I had a dream about you, because I had just mentioned that I never did, and I was maybe a little over wrought.
In my dream we sent you to stay somewhere else overnight, so that we could have a night alone, and, um, remember what each other looked like
You asked for cheese.