I've always been a dreamer. Not in the wish and hope sense, I mean a real dreamer. I lost a bit once adulthood set in and life's realities squashed the innocence of my imagination, but as a child my dreams were like big screen productions and I actually looked forward to bedtime.
Every night vivid stories would play like movies in my head. I had my fair share of nightmares, but most of the time they were happy dreams full of vibrant colors, amazing feats, and lots of laughter. Surfing in tidal waves in my parents front yard, riding a toy train on the railroad tracks behind the house, climbing the tallest tree in the world and looking at all the ant-size people below... My dreams were adventurous. My dreams were fun. My dreams were an escape from being the shy kid with her nose in a book.
And they seemed so real.
I remember being excited to fall asleep some nights. If I had a particularly amusing dream the night before, many times it would continue the next night...right where it left off...and I couldn't wait to see the rest of the story. Several of my favorite dreams repeated often and the images are burned in my brain to this day.
In one dream, I was able to fly. It always started the same way: I was playing with my dolls in the front yard. I would run really fast and jump straight up in the sky. I would float above the treetops and use swimming strokes to propel myself through the air. From roof to roof, tree to tree, all across town. I would simply jump back down whenever I wanted to land. It seemed so natural, so easy, and so normal.
This was my favorite dream of all. It repeated so often it apparently blurred the line between reality and dreamland in my mind. One afternoon while playing in the front yard, without giving it an ounce of conscious thought, I ran as fast as I could and jumped with all my might. When my feet quickly landed right back on the grass, I was stunned. Completely dumbfounded. It took a minute for the confusion to pass and the realization to set in: I couldn't really fly. It was only a dream. And I was pissed.
I've thought of that incident many times over the years. For whatever reason, it left a lasting impression and I've always wondered about the look on my face at the time. I could only imagine how painfully lost I appeared. But on Sunday, I saw that face and recognized it in an instant.
Punky and I were sitting on the floor in her room. It's her favorite spot when she wants to read...right in front of the book shelves overflowing with every kids' story imaginable. Not like she cares about the vast array of titles to choose from...she has her handful of favorites and it's like pulling teeth to get her to read a new one. Once in a while she breaks routine, and I'm thrilled to read something new for a change. I know so many of her books by heart, no need to even look at the pages.
Anyway, after a few of the usuals, she told me she wanted to read the playground story and I had no clue which book she meant. She started pulling them off the shelves one by one and flipping through the pages until she found the book with the picture she had in mind. "Great!" I said...a new one..."Bring it here and we'll read that book!"
She stood up but left the book on the floor, still open to a colorful picture of kids playing at the playground. She mumbled something... and then jumped on it.
At first, I didn't quite catch what she said. But when I saw the look on her face, the look...my look, I instantly realized what happened. She tried to skidoo...like Blue...and was so confused when she ended up simply standing on a book on her bedroom floor. She expected to jump into the story and play with the kids at the playground.
For those who don't spend their evenings surfing PBS, Sprout, Nickelodeon, and the Disney Chanel, this is in reference to Blue's Clues, a show about a little, blue dog and his owner who sometimes "skidoo" into story books. "Blue skidoo...We can, too!" is what she mumbled before taking her giant jump onto the playground picture.
It broke my heart to tell her she couldn't really skidoo into a book. She had the same disappointed/pissed off look I had when I realized I couldn't really fly. I guess all the rainy weather we've been having here (seriously, we're like three days away from building an ark) has finally gotten to her. She's been dying to get to the playground and apparently had a novel idea on how to get there. I felt her pain when it didn't work.
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