What dreams may come

Holy water. Pumpkin pie. Kristen Stewart. It is funny how real a dream can seem, even when they don't make any sense. Growing up Catholic I have, what I assume, is a healthy dollop of guilt. When Eric and I decided not to get married in the Catholic church it felt like my membership card to "the faith" had been revoked. Ever since Liam was born I have felt this nagging feeling that he should be baptized in the Catholic Church. Except that it is not that simple to find a priest willing to baptize the child of a non-practicing Catholic. When my parents came to visit recently, they either intentionally or accidentally left a vial of holy water in our guest bathroom. We halfway joked that my parents probably baptized Liam while we were sleeping at night.

It might have had something to do with the slice of pumpkin pie that I ate before bedtime last night...that created the bad dream...that left me in such a panic that I awoke this morning in a cold sweat. In my dream, Eric and I had just purchased a really lovely, but dilapidated Georgian mansion. Clearly the first sign that I was in a dream. We moved in with big plans to renovate our rundown dream home (no pun intended). Until, that is, we realized that our home was haunted. And not just a little haunted, but out to do-in our family haunted.

Kristen Stewart came for a visit whereupon she promised to give me the banana yellow pants she wore in the first Twilight movie. I realize in real life that no such pants exist. But as fate would have it, she was wearing said pants to our lovely, albeit haunted home. "Score," I thought. I would be able to sell those pants to some lonely fan on EBay and have a little extra money to buy those boots I have been salivating over. It just goes to show that I am always trying to figure out ways to save money even in my dreams. Or so I thought. The house attacked Kristen and threw her down our stairs. And to add insult to injury, she bled all over the promised banana yellow pants!

At this point I realized that our house was for sure haunted. It occurs to me to hire a locksmith to change the locks. Because clearly pure evil is deterred by a locked door. No such luck. Then the house tried to capture Liam. For the gals in my book club, I channeled the parrot in our more recent read, "Olive Kitteridge." I started running through the house yellowing "Praise the Lord!" and throwing holy water at these invisible forces. I also had one of those pointy crucifixes from the movies and was ready to strike should the moment arise (it did not, in case you were wondering).

When Liam was sick at the end of last year, a well intentioned person mentioned that, perhaps I should find my way back to the Church, as if there was a correlation. So perhaps my guilt has settled in. But I can't help but think that he has had every vaccination he could get to spare him from illness, but perhaps he needs a spiritual vaccination as well. Any how, I woke up this morning with a strong conviction that I needed to get Liam baptized and soon. And that I should never buy a rundown mansion with fixer-up potential. Especially if it is in my price range.