Elliot woke up in the middle of the night with a bloody nose. He was crying and said he had a bad dream. In the dream, he was on an airplane filled with ghosts. There no was pilot flying it. He couldn’t tell me much more about it, but he was scared. He asked why he never has good dreams. I told him that he will eventually. Everyone does.
He said he had the same dream when he was a baby. Or did he say when he was 2? I don’t remember. Anyway, he said he had the same dream as a baby, and he was crying, and I gave him the milky bottle. It was sweet. I asked if he remembered me holding him in arms, cradling his head in one hand and holding the milk bottle with the other. He said yes, yes, he remembers.
This morning I read the story of Icarus to him and also Atalanta. Then Green Eggs & Ham. Right in the middle, Elliot says “He’s Jewish!” because the Dr. Suess character won’t eat the ham.
Grendel is on my chest, listening to the story, as usual.
