Rampant Holidays

Sigh. Sometimes I get out of bed with a weird thought still hanging around from that dreamworld in which perverse, astounding and terrifying things happen.

Like this morning. I blame Mimi. She told me last night that I have to die first.

Mimi is 9, and has a very definite take on the world, which consists of NOT being arty and sensitive like her big sister, and NOT being demure and 'triste' like her baby sister. So she says things like:

"When I'm a rockstar, you can tell everyone about my songs and I'll tell everyone about your stories. The good ones. But you have to die first, obviously, cos you're the mum, so maybe you'll have to tell people in heaven about my songs. Will they be able to listen to them there? Oh, you still don't believe in heaven do you, so you wouldn't know. Well anyway, you die first and we'll find out."

So the fact that I died and it wasn't at all where I expected to be isn't that surprising. But the fact that I woke up with about 4 new stories kicking around like kids under a duvet was brilliant. I just wished I hadn't lived through them all in one night. That's all.