"I could make pigs in a blanket," Mom offered from across the room just moments ago. Dad and I wrinkled out noses at each other. "Sausages wrapped in pancake!" she explained with exasperation.
"I would rather have sausage," I held out one hand, "and pancakes." I held the opposite hand far away from the first. Then I wrapped one hand around the other and shook my head firmly.
"Why would you think of that?" Dad asked her.
"We saw them at that restaurant!" she exclaimed and I grinned at her, recognizing that I came by my passionate tendencies toward over-dramatization honestly. "The three people at the next table got them and I said they looked good and you said they looked good too!"
I grinned and glanced at Dad. He shrugged.
"I said I wanted to make them and you said I should!" Mom continued, starting to wave her hands around while I giggled.
"And then you woke up?" Dad asked.
"No!" she cried. "At the restaurant! With the three people! And the pigs in blankets!"
"Why are you getting so upset?" Dad teased her. "It's not my fault I don't remember your dreams."
"This was important to me! You never remember what's important to me! No pigs in blankets for you," she huffed and moved toward the kitchen.
"No," Dad protested, rising from his chair and following her to the stove. "I want pigs in blankets! I remember!"
But this morning started with coffee on the back patio with Mom. Yesterday, I was awakened by Little One blowing whistles in my ear. Today we're running errands and having pizza. Yesterday was exhaustedly playing with tiny girls and mowing the lawn.
When I have time, remind me that PhysioProf and I discussed doing a post or two about postdoctoral salary structure. Oh, and the phone interview I had with the CEO of a start-up on Friday. And how sad I am that the moving transition will start with Sprout staying here with his grandparents when I drive home tomorrow or Tuesday. I will miss him. And I don't deal particularly well with change.