Dream of: 25 April 2000 "Speaking Burmese"

While I was riding in a car which my mother was driving, she told me my pet Dalmatian Dac had shown up at the Ressinger House. She had already seen Dac. I couldn't believe he had returned after all these years. I told her we had to go immediately to the Ressinger House.

She was hesitant, however, and didn't seem to want to go. I, however, insisted. For a moment I became confused and thought Dac might be in the back seat. But when I looked back there I saw another person whom we had picked up earlier, a small swarthy boy (about 2 years old). I said, "That's not Dac."

My mother said she knew the little boy wasn't Dac, and that the boy was from Burma. I looked at him and asked him if he spoke Burmese. He answered, "No."

But he did know a little Burmese and he spoke a few words in Burmese. In English, he then told me he had just asked me in Burmese what my name was. I thought at least he could speak a few words of Burmese. When he told me his mother was Burmese, I told him he should ask his mother to teach him some Burmese. He was a cute friendly little boy - I really liked him. 

I turned my attention back to my mother. She was telling me that she didn't want to go to the Ressinger House. But I continued to insist. I thought if Dac were truly at the Ressinger House, I would fetch him and take him with me. Then I would have three Dalmatians: Dac, Chaucer and Picasso. Walking all three at once would be difficult, but I would manage somehow.

I asked my mother if Dac looked older and she said he did. I figured I had lost him about 10 years ago. I wondered if he would remember his name when I called him. He might still have 5-10 years of life left. To myself, I was thinking, "How could he have found me? How could he have known after all these years where to go?"

Still, she didn't want to go. She said she should have said something first to my father before even telling me about Dac. I told her that Dac was like a child to me and I asked her what she would do if she had lost a child, would she not go to retrieve it? 

We were only a few blocks away from the Ressinger House. Up ahead was a stop sign. We needed to turn right to go to the Ressinger House. But my mother didn't want to turn. Finally I screamed, "Turn the fucking wheel."

I hardly ever said the word "fucking" in front of my mother, but she seemed to take my profanity in stride without putting any importance on it. She still couldn't make up her mind, but finally she did turn. Just as she did turn, I saw a cop on the other street. But I knew there wasn't any problem there. So we headed on.

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