So I thought Mason and I mighta been able to avoid this whackadoodle dream thing but apparently not.
Last night I dreamed that I was twelve - nearly thirteen, which is super important - again and summer vacation had started and my brother and I were being sent off to some tiny town in Oregon to visit a long lost, kind of stinky, definitely grumpy Great Uncle that we totally didn't know that we had.
I got a boyfriend in the dreams, too. Which, uh, okay. Was a bit weird because I don't remember being that
boy mad at twelve but whatever. Except he was actually just eight gnomes who tried to propose to me and then they kidnapped me to make me their queen and we had to defeat them with a leaf blower.
Before anyone asks, no I didn't have cheese before bed and I definitely haven't been drinking and my candy consumption was worryingly low for yesterday...