We pull up to place our drive-thru order at Burger King and the following takes place:
May I Take Your Order Lady: We're out of meat right now (Pause) except for chicken.
Me (in the passenger seat): What?
Troy: (Pause) Um. Okay. Thanks anyway. (As he turns to get the car out of the drive-thru he mutters) I didn't know this was Chicken King.
And then we laughed. A lot.
I had a dream last night where these people had figured out a way to harvest embryos out of the sea. Because, you know, that isn't creepy or unethical at all. So, this giant boat with huge paddles in front would kind of stir the salt water and create blocks of ice. For next to nothing, you could obtain these ice blocks, take them home, unfreeze them and voila, embryos. At this point you were supposed to swallow your embryo. When I pointed out that I just felt that maybe it would end up in the wrong place this way, I was told that if I wanted to go about it the way that they might in a clinic, I was more than welcome. Interesting. Suddenly I was dragging my children into this weird and very sterile environment to thank the wife of the man who invented the harvesting boat. I had Garrett who was about four and two tiny daughters, about ten months apart. The baby's name was Megan and the middle child, her name was a series of sounds. In the dream, Troy and I had liked different names so we'd combined them and made this sing songy name. It sounded sort of like an African dialect. So we had Garrett, Megan and Umbliqueblaki (that wasn't it, there is just no way to duplicate the actual name). The girls looked like Garrett with more feminine features and more hair. In the dream I thought it was strange that my daughters, both of which were harvested from the ocean, looked like my biological son. Because that's the only part of the dream that didn't quite add up.