In Dreams: The Case of the Missing Sticky Stick
I've been thinking about starting a side blog just to record my dreams. This will have to do for now.
As many of you know, I have a bizarre, all too real dream life. Most of my dreams play out like high budget movies. Often, I wake up exhausted from taking part in them.
I think last night's short dream was - while pretty benign compared to most of my nightmare visions of death and destruction - the strangest, most unexplainable dream I've had in a while.
In the dream, I have this friend named Skippy. Skippy is an astronaut and is always in full astronaut gear, including helmet. He looks sort of like a grown up Buzz Lightyear, without the lasers and whatnot. The gear is all white.
So Skippy is getting ready to go on a shuttle mission. I drive him over to NASA. He gets into his spaceship, which is just parked in the middle of a grassy field and the door (which is lowered and doubling as a ramp) raises up behind him and closes.
I walk into the control room and a dozen men in white lab coats are running around, freaking out. They all look like Dr. Scratchensniff from Animaniacs. They surround me, all yelling at once. Something about a stick. A sticky stick. Finally, one of them speaks above the rest.
-Have you seen the messy stick?
-What? What messy stick?
-The one with the pancake batter on it! If he took it into the ship, we're doomed!
-I swear, no one made pancakes in my house this morning!
-No, no...Skippy got it from one of the morning shows he was on today. I think he tripped over the chef and somehow ended up with the stick.
There's a huge monitor and it's showing a picture of a white, plastic stick - about six inches long - covered with pancake batter.
-Oh...I see. Well, Skippy didn't have anything in his hands when he got on the shuttle.
The NASA guys look all worried and they're punching a million buttons and making phone calls. Outside, the shuttle is getting ready to lift off. We all run out to the field to watch it go up. There's a full length glass door on the side of the shuttle, and Skippy is standing there, waving and grinning. We all wave back. As the shuttle lifts off, Skippy turns from the window and walks away from us. When he lifts up his feet to sort of float away (I know, he should still have gravity at this point, but it's a dream, what do you expect?) we see the messy stick stuck to the bottom of Skippy's boot. The NASA guys all gasp. One says "It's the sticky stick!" I scream NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! as the shuttle flies farther and farther away from us.
And then I wake up. I don't know why having that pancake batter on board meant certain disaster, but it's obvious it did.
Which will teach you to never eat pancakes the morning of a shuttle mission. Don't say I never taught you anything.