This morning Michael came down to the living room a little earlier than usual. His eyes - which are the only part of his face I ever see - spoke of nightmares.
"Mom..." he said tentatively, sitting down on the couch beside me and my knitting equipment. "You've read one of those dream dictionaries front to back, right?"
"DID YOU HAVE A NIGHTMARE?" I exclaimed, dropping my knitting. This was extremely shocking because Michael has not had a dream he could remember since he was three and he dreamt this evil psychiatrist with a trenchcoat and a chubby face with a few remnants of beard was chasing him. I remember this because one week later, he donned the mask. I also remember it because oddly enough, the evil psychiatrist turned out to look exactly like one of Edna's more recent husbands, Dr. Sam Loomis. Which is weird because he is also a psychiatrist.
"No," said Michael quickly. "I did not have a nightmare. I had a dream, is all. Jesus Fudge."
"Watch your language."
"Man, whatever."
So I'm all, "What was your dream about?"
Michael looked profoundly disturbed for a moment. And then suddenly he started talking, and it all spilled out. "Mom, I had a dream I was twenty-one and I broke out of a mental institution on Halloween and then Edna's husband was chasing me and then I killed people and then I got caught and I got shot six times but it didn't hurt because it was a freaking dream and I just got up and walked away!"
I smiled at him. This was the most emotion I’ve seen in Michael’s eyes probably since he yelled the shit out of Sella Bwan this one time. “Hon, it was just a dream. Now, you know that’s never going to happen.”
“HOW?”
“Because Edna’s husband would never chase you, you would never kill anyone, and I would never have you committed in the first place."
The look in Michael’s eyes clearly stated he doubted all three of these statements. I ignored this and went into the kitchen to make some grilled cheese. Turns out Jason Vrees likes grilled cheese better than pancakes. Whodathunk? Jason Vrees went home yesterday, but still, this restores some of my faith in my most beloved breakfast item and my ability to successfully cook meals.
On his way out the door to catch the bus, Michael informed me that he would be staying late at school to work on a project.
“Oh, you’re such a hard worker,” I said. “Which project?”
Michael grinned. “English movie thing with Jason and Freddy. We’re filming ‘Freddy vs. Jason 3.5’ today. It might take a while. Don’t expect me home until 7-ish.”
“Okay honey. You have lunch money?”
“Yeeeesss, moommm...”
“By the way, did you get your results for the cooking project yet?”
Michael slowly turned his head to the side. This is what he does when he is confused. Personally, I think he may have a neurological imbalance of some sort. Then he was all, “Oh, that. Yeah, I got an A-.”
“Well that’s good!”
“Yeah, she said I would have gotten an A+, but I guess I forgot to use the damn peanuts. Oh well. Anyway, how the hell did you know about my cooking project?”
I trudged back into the living room. “Have a nice day at school, honey!”
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Oh, that is a good idea Gertie. Though, do you think he'll use it often? I'm still unsure what to get Michael for Christmas, I would have gotten him a new mask but I know how much you hate his mask. What would you suggest? Rachel thinks I should get him a new state of the art video camera considering all of the films him and his friends make. And of course Melanie thinks I should just get him cookies. Oh, wait, she wants to tell you something herself.
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She is telling you that she misses you and we have to get together for coffee soon.