Last night I dreamed that I heard a baby crying downstairs. I went to check it out and found a library in our basement. It was dark and I searched up and down all the aisles. At the very last one I looked up and saw a baby on top of the shelf. I reached up and brought him down. He was younger than Lachlan - maybe 3 or 4 months.
Bernie was upstairs getting the kids ready for bed. I brought the baby up to a bedroom that happened to have a crib. I fed him, chose a stuffed animal for him, and was trying to sneak him to bed without Bernie noticing. I knew he'd think I was crazy, but I was sure that we were meant to have this baby.
Can't imagine what that could mean, eh?
Sigh, the ongoing question festers...
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