Bathing Babies
In my dream last night my little sister was sitting under some bushes just outside the garage. Just right down on the dry red dirt. It was a very hot day and she had one fussy baby in her lap and a its twin laying on its side by the ditch.
I was worried about both my sister and the babies because it was so hot and they only had on diapers. My sister was "patting" the baby on her lap on the tummy. Everyone looked miserable. The second baby looked like he had cinnamon in his mouth. Oh dear.
I said, "Let me take the babies and give them a cool bath while you go home and rest." She agreed and we got some help and lifted the babies up and went into the open garage to see if there was a bathtub.
Turns out Bob Dylan was renting out the garage and living there. He just couldn't have been more helpful and truly seemed to want to help us bath the babies, but there were no appropriate bathtubs.
He showed us one and even got into it to show how it would work, but it was filthy and just no way. Thanks but no thanks Bob.
Then I said, "Let's take them to Claude's house on Rumsey street. I'm thinking, well it's nearby and although Claude is now about 89 years old and not taking care of house cleaning too well we should be able to scrub out the tub and bathe the babies there. It's got running water.
My sister protests and I ask her why not? She says, "Claude will be angry with me if he finds out I'm in town and didn't go see him. But I called and left messages and he never responded."
I'm flabbergasted. What? You call a man who never leaves the house and he never answers? That means something bad has happened. He is probably dead. (He is dead by the way, died about 15 years ago.) I thought about what it would be like to open the door of his house and what would we find.
I was worried about both my sister and the babies because it was so hot and they only had on diapers. My sister was "patting" the baby on her lap on the tummy. Everyone looked miserable. The second baby looked like he had cinnamon in his mouth. Oh dear.
I said, "Let me take the babies and give them a cool bath while you go home and rest." She agreed and we got some help and lifted the babies up and went into the open garage to see if there was a bathtub.
Turns out Bob Dylan was renting out the garage and living there. He just couldn't have been more helpful and truly seemed to want to help us bath the babies, but there were no appropriate bathtubs.
He showed us one and even got into it to show how it would work, but it was filthy and just no way. Thanks but no thanks Bob.
Then I said, "Let's take them to Claude's house on Rumsey street. I'm thinking, well it's nearby and although Claude is now about 89 years old and not taking care of house cleaning too well we should be able to scrub out the tub and bathe the babies there. It's got running water.
My sister protests and I ask her why not? She says, "Claude will be angry with me if he finds out I'm in town and didn't go see him. But I called and left messages and he never responded."
I'm flabbergasted. What? You call a man who never leaves the house and he never answers? That means something bad has happened. He is probably dead. (He is dead by the way, died about 15 years ago.) I thought about what it would be like to open the door of his house and what would we find.
Comments