Wednesday, February 21, 2001

What dreams may come

The other night, I dreamed a Lifetime Movie of the Week. In the dream, I fell in love with this absolutely gorgeous, whip-smart guy. We hit it off from the moment we met, made amazing whoopie and planned to spend the rest of our lives together. Everything was jake until he introduced me to his mother.

His mother was, apparently, my father's fiancee.

There followed a lot of soul searching and sneaking around to be together -- more fabulous whoopie -- and, finally, wracked with guilt about the not-quite-incest-but-just-plain-weird nature of our relationship, the decision for the good of the family to be just friends (well, and step-brothers).

There was a surprise waiting for us in the final act, though. Our respective parents decided that, although they were very fond of each other, their children's happiness was more important to both of them, so they would not marry and we could be together, weirdness-free.

I know that nothing in this dream is true, because I'm certain if ever a movie is made of my life, my father will not be played by John Ritter, nor could I possibly fall for any off-spring of Shelley Long.