Last night I dreamed that babies in diapers were stabbing me with the kitchen knives. It has been a long time since I've had a baby dream. The last one had a baby sitting in a kitchen chair and he was talking to me as if he was an adult. Luckily I don't remember the words of wisdom.
I believe this last dream was a direct result of Giordanos stuffed spinach and black olive pizza. Of course it might also have something to do with the conversation I had with my dad in the basement yesterday.
I was looking at the dollhouse my grandfather built me and I said that I hoped someone would like it when we donate it this weekend. He asked me if I wanted to get rid of all the stuffed animals and other kid stuff and I said yes of course. I told him that it would be a different conversation if I had kids but I don't. He said that he felt bad about getting rid of the crib and high chair so I suggested that we could make a 5 year plan section of the basement. We agreed on that idea in a joking manner but I immediately became fearful of looking at that pile in another five years. A crib, a high chair and a Tyco train set collect dust while I live my life.