I had a very strange dream last night. I was washing my car in my parents’ driveway. It was a generic-looking sedan and not my old beloved Ford, but I felt a sense of ownership so I guess it was mine.
For some reason I had taken a hose and was spraying the interior of the car, all the while being conscious of a certain spot within the car I didn’t want to spray lest the car stop working. I guess not spraying the inside of the car with a hose wasn’t an option.
When I finish spraying the interior of the car I turn the hose onto the outside of the car, which is very dirty, but as I’m washing the car my mother pulls up in a minivan and proceeds to bump my car out of the way. Bump, bump, bump until she successfully pushes me out of the spot in the driveway where I was apparently blocking her path to the garage.
WTF, lady? My mother gets out of the van and offers no explanation as to why she chose to bump my car away, so in my fury I take the hose and spray her directly in the face.
Oh, she’s pissed. I think she’s going to kill me, but instead she says, “I don’t care. I’m going anyway.”
“Going where?” I ask.
“To see Paula Deen. She’s going to be at Walmart signing books.”
And of course I have to point out to my mother that she just received a brand new signed Paula Deen cookbook, but as we’re in the driveway arguing, my mother sopping wet, another van backs into the driveway. The door opens, out comes Autumn, and as the van pulls away I see one of Autumn’s teachers sitting in the back seat.
Shit. I ask my mother what time it is and she tells me it’s 7:00. In the evening.
SHIT! I had completely forgotten to pick Autumn up from school. And? They charge $10 for every five minutes your pick-up time runs past 6:05 in the evening.
My heart is sinking as I realize how much that late fee is going to run us and how I’m going to explain that to Nathan. I’m not at all worried about my child and that I had forgotten to pick her up from school, mind you. I’m just worried about the money and whether a carefully worded explanation to the director of the school would waive the fee. They like Autumn over there, so maybe they’ll take pity on her stupidly preoccupied mother who decided to wash the interior of her car with a garden hose.
And that’s when I realize I’m sunk because I have no way to explain my negligence other than to say I was at home washing my car.
The rest of the dream is pretty murky. I can recall images of me being at the school with the director, but I can’t tell you what happened from there. All I know is I woke up incredibly relieved that we wouldn’t be adding on to this week’s tuition bill.
And I have to admit that even though I do have a wonderful relationship with my mother, turning the hose on her felt pretty awesome.
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