Last night I kept dreaming that my kids were at the side of my bed, poking at me. "Wake up, Mom!" they'd say. "It's morning! You have to wake up!" They would push my eyeballs open and shake me and yell in my ear.
Then I *would* wake up. It would be the middle of the night. There would be no babies poking, pushing, or talking to me. The room would be dark and I would realize, "Crap. It was a dream. I didn't *have* to wake up."
and so I'd go back to sleep.
and dream it AGAIN.
Book-A-Day 2018 #21: Vallista by Steven Brust
17 hours ago