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Grouchy Family
#1
I only remember a little chunk of this dream. I did, again, make preparations to dream of "Important Events in August 2014"... I was disappointed that my dream didn't seem to be very significant this time around, but there is always next time...

I don't remember how I got in this situation in the dream, but for whatever reason, I had become homeless. My parents house burned down a few months ago. (I actually dreamt of their house on fire, but never where the fire actually started... and though I told my parents my dream, none of us ever thought much of it. I was told I was probably dreaming of it because the memories in the home was a source of comfort, and I was afraid that comfort would be destroyed.) Anyway, I was visiting their NEW home. They had begrudgingly allowed me to stay there with my youngest son. I was directed into the room and it looked ALOT like a hospital room... complete with those horrible, off-white speckled tiles, ceiling squares and furniture. There was a counter with a mirror on one side of the room with a built-in sink. On the other side was a hospital bed with those horrible, crunchy hospital sheets. No comforter. It didn't matter to me, at least I had a place to stay!

I had a little bag with me that I sat next to the bed, then thanked my parents over and over before making myself at home in the room. It was dreary and bare, so after playing with my son and rocking him to sleep, I sat up and doodled drawings to put up on the wall. I thought if I could just draw ONE thing a day, I would eventually make the room beautiful.

The next day I strapped my son to me in a baby carrier and hunted jobs. The sun was SO HOT and he was getting heavy. Nevertheless, I did what I could then returned home exhausted. I had just unstrapped my son and was getting comfortable when my grandmother popped around the corner. Apparently she lived there too. She asked if she could spend time with the baby and I told her "Of course!" I happily handed her her great-grandson. I was thinking how lucky he was, after all, not every kid gets to meet their great-grandmother! As I thought that, I saw my great grandmother look over her shoulder at me. She had a mean look about her as if she were taking my child because I wasn't fit to keep him. I stood there shocked for a moment... but since there was nothing I could do about how she felt about me, I chose just to ignore it.

I was very hungry anyway... and I knew my baby had to be. We hadn't eaten since we got there! The kitchen was FULL of food, but I was not allowed to eat what I hadn't bought myself. There was a little pantry for MY food, when I opened it, all that was in it were two or three packs of SPICY ramen noodles. This was a real dilemma... What was I going to feed my son?! I prepared the noodles hoping that maybe they weren't really THAT spicy. Since I live in the south, me and my children are very used to spicy, flavorful foods, so maybe it wouldn't be that bad?

I blew the noodles and cut them into tiny pieces as I went into my grandmother's room to find my son. Her room was beautiful! It was purple and filled with flowers. She had a HUGE bed with a purple flowery comforter and was asleep with all three of my boys. Now I was in bigger trouble... I needed to feed all three of them these noodles and I only had a pack or two left in the cabinet... this meant I would not be eating for a while. I tried to wake up the youngest, and he kicked and woke up the oldest and my middle child was still asleep. I was struggling to hold my baby on my hip to feed him when my other son started jumping on my grandmother's bed waking her and bumping the bowl in my hand, causing me to spill some of the noodle juice on one of the pillows. My grandmother looked up at me and was clearly VERY angry. I apologized profusely and told her that I would clean it up immediately! Instead, she yelled at me to get out, I had done enough.

I was very upset that I had angered her, and brought my boys into the room. We all colored and put our work on the wall... but I noticed that there was a mess now and I needed to clean up. The garbage bags were in my brother's room. I was not allowed in there, but I wasn't left with much of a choice if I wanted a garbage bag... so I snuck in to get one. When I opened his door, my jaw almost hit the floor. He had a nice couch, a big screen TV, beautiful furniture, retro arcade games, A GIANT bed... it was every man's dream pad. I wanted to be angry for a minute... my brother had always been my parents "favorite", but it seemed unfair that I was almost completely ignored... but to be fair, I was an adult and was responsible for my own happiness. Whatever they bought or did for him was none of my business, I was a guest in their house and if I wanted nice things, it was fair enough that I should earn them myself. So I grabbed a garbage bag and left to clean my room.

Later, I was invited to go shopping with my parents. I was very excited, because I have not been invited to do ANYTHING with my family for years. I had a small bag and inside I packed this awesome thing that unfolded into a journal, a notepad, and address book and many other things. It was beautiful, pink, design-ey, and just awesome. It had a quill pen with different colored inks you could screw into the bottom... the current colored ink was gold, but I also had red, blue, and silver too. I was pretty smug when I packed it. I thought to myself that this was all the luxury I needed. I could write, draw and keep information in this and it was beautiful and one of a kind. Even though everyone else had much nicer things than me, no one had one of THESE! I felt pretty good carrying it around.

My parents drove to a place that looked like a small, outdoor, shopping center, and it wasn't long before everyone separated and went different directions leaving me alone. I didn't have any money to shop, and I felt lonely and out of place for a moment, until I noticed that I was next to an ocean! It would make a beautiful sketch, or maybe I could write in my journal... at any rate, the trip wasn't a complete waste of time.
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