What a twist

M woke me up this morning announcing that the baby was being born prematurely. And sure enough, when I looked, there was his little head, his eyes blinking up at me and everything. So I went and called the doctor, apologized for waking him in the middle of the night, and explained the situation.

"It's entirely ordinary for expectant parents to have dreams like this," he said. It's a reflection of your reaction to your loss of control over your life, and your partner's safety and that of your baby.

"You don't understand; I'm not describing M's dream. This is happening in my bed, right now. There are witnesses!"

Then I realized that he wasn't talking about her dreaming, but me. I was having a dream. The baby was still comfortably gestational. I went back to bed really embarrassed about having woken up the obstetrician in the wee hours with a stupid dream that I should have recognized as such.

Then, as you'll no doubt expect, I woke up to my own voice explaining to M in my sleep how silly I felt, and realized that I had dreamed calling the doctor, as well, so the twists cancelled each other out.

Then before I could give Leonardo DiCaprio the combination, the van hit the water.