Last night, I dreamed a dream that succeeded in defying logic, rationality and common sense. I dreamed a dream that held zero similarities to my everyday life. I dreamed a dream that probably makes me a prime candidate for therapy. And I’m going to share it with you in minute detail because…well…just because.
First, I was thrust into the plotline of Christmas with the Kranks/Homeward Bound II, and found myself frantically running around outside in the cold trying to string Christmas lights before the “blood red van” drove by and caught us being un-festive and anti-holiday. I guess the best we could do was a string of old-fashioned colored lights stretched across the front of the house, going right across of the front door.
I succeeded in getting the lights plugged in before the ominous “blood red van” cruised by, and the next thing I knew, I was inside with my mom/Jami Lee Curtis, who was flopping her hands around and shoving me out the door in a panic. “You’re dad wants you to meet him at the seafood store downtown!” She was freaking out because we were running out of time. (Not sure why.)
So we jumped in a Subaru/Hybrid station wagon thingy and rushed downtown, where we met my dad/Tim Allen. Inside the seafood store, we went up to the counter to order some kind of fish, and be quick about it. Behind the counter, chaos reigned. There were at least 12 employees, all wearing dark blue polo shirts and dirty white aprons, falling over each other, chattering, hollering, laughing. The kid helping us had a major attitude issue, so my dad demanded that an Asian guy also working there serve us.
Asian Guy went to the chest-style freezer unit and peered down into it. “Not much left!” He exclaimed, shrugging helplessly. Then he reached down inside, pulled out a long, thick piece of fish, about the size of a Louisville Slugger (only fatter), and slapped it on the counter in front of us. “This is all we have left.” He announced. “Swordfish.”
“Okay, we’ll take it.” My dad/Tim Allen said.
Before we knew what was happening, the entire staff of the seafood store descended upon our swordfish – which was now somehow the length of the whole counter. It was filleted the long way and laid open like a hot dog bun. Everyone began to pile the slab of meat with chopped celery, onion, pickles and avocado. The staff talked in some kind of high-speed gibberish that I couldn’t understand, but I somehow managed to communicate with them as I broke up pieces of avocado and helped “stuff” our fish. They were laughing constantly, excited and happy and apparently loving life.
When we were finished stuffing the fish fillet, Asian Guy flipped it closed and wrapped it in some sort of plastic covering with handles. By this time, our swordfish fillet had grown so immense and fat that it took around 8 people to carry it outside to the waiting car. We all grabbed one of the handles and started hefting, laughing and giggling so much we could hardly walk. (The source of the hilarity is unknown.) But clearly, we found something about this scenario uproariously funny.
Out on the city street, where ice and slush coated the roads and snow fell slowly from the dark sky, we popped open the back hatch of our Subaru/Hybrid thing, and on the count of three, we tossed the massive piece of seafood into the back. Then we all congratulated each other. And hugged each other like we were saying goodbye to old friends. I suppose we built a sort of comradery, stuffing a swordfish with onions and avocado on Christmas Eve. We were still laughing, absolutely, positively, about-to-die laughing, and after we’d all hugged each other goodbye, me, Tim Allen and Jami Lee Curtis hopped into the car. Faye was in the backseat.
“You wanna drive, Abbie?” She asked.
I looked at the dashboard clock, then back at Faye. “Duh, I can’t drive after 9. It’s 10:38.”
Then I woke up. I looked at the alarm clock at my bedside. It read 10:38 am.
NOTE:
For the record, I have not
watched either Christmas with
the Kranks or Homeward
Bound II any time in recent history.