Wet Dreams at the Playground

It is 3 p.m. and I still have not had my first cup of coffee today. and if anyone knows me, I drink coffee like boy.imp drinks milk (and he would be perfectly content to be permanently affixed to a cows udder).

The reason for this lapse in my caffiene addiction? Because this a.m. as I was fixing my chocolate chip pancakes b.imp wants to tell me about his sleep.

b.imp: I was laughing in my sleep last night
me: you were?
b.imp: yes, do you know why?
me: (looking at niece.imp as he is sharing her bed. She tells me b.imp was laughing in his sleep)
b.imp: because I dreamed niece.imp was kissing a boy.

Great! My son is having make-out dreams....and remembering them!! I mean he is only 3!

So does this mean that in a couple of years, when he turns 5, I'll walk into his bedroom to find him 'beating the bishop', 'slapping the dolphin', 'hitch-hiking to the moon', 'turning japanese'??

What if he reaaaaally starts to cling to that one 'special' stuffed animal.

Lord knows I spent all morning trying to figure out the living arrangements when he starts smoking in 3rd grade and he and when, on his 13th birthday he asks if he and his 3rd wife move in with the young-uns!

Maybe I should go to bed and try this day again in an hour or two...