The stuff of dreams

I was attempting to park the car today on the side road at school, which involves mounting a small slope, backwards, and manoeuvring into a slither of a space between shiny BMWs, when my five-year-old told me he’d had a funny dream last night.

“Mmm, really,” I said, not really paying much attention as I inched the car gingerly into the slot. (I swear my husband has an easier time parking the A380 at Dubai International airport than most mums in Dubai have when negotiating the drop off).

As I unloaded Son2 with his various bags and his lunch box, I remembered what he’d just said and asked him to tell me more.

I’m fascinated by what kids dream about. Apparently, they even dream in the womb, and anyone who’s watched a small baby’s expression as he sleeps will know that tiny infants have vivid, simplistic dreams too.

Sweet dreams Son 2, sweet electronic dreams
Sweet dreams Son2, sweet electronic dreams

Dreams can be like children’s drawings, telling us a lot about their emotions. They’re the adventures our kids live in their sleep – and, here in Dubai, where so many of the little ones are bi- or even tri-lingual, it fascinates me what language they dream in.

“What was your dream about?” I prompted, hoping for a window into what’s on his mind.

“I dreamt about Minecraft,” Son2 replied.

“Oh.” [Not quite the insight I was hoping for.]

“Was it a bad dream?” I asked, wondering if the zombies were the modern-day equivalent of the wolves, witches and ogres of more traditional childhood dreams.

“No, I was in Minecraft,” he said proudly. “I was walking round the server, all night!” he told me, with a grin that suggested it was his best dream ever.

Hardly Hansel and Gretel, but at least he was all smiles after an entertaining sleep.

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