Follow-up to Last Night's Blog

It wasn't what I expected to hear at 5:30 in the morning,
but one of the boys was coughing.
Oh-oh, I thought. I have a doctor's appointment today. What am I going to do?

I listened intently.
You know - the way, only a mother can listen to identify the child and type of cough.
It was Noah.
But he wasn't coughing; he was sobbing.

I rushed to check on him.
When I reached his bedside, I realized he'd been crying for a while.

"What's wrong, Noah?"
"I had a bad dream," he responded.
I silently wondered if his dream had anything to do with his classmate's dad dying.
We'd only briefly discussed the subject at last night's school concert, after Noah brought it up.

"What did you dream?"
Noah shook his head. "I don't want to tell you," tears still streaming down his face.
"It's okay. You can tell me," I assured him. "It will make you feel better and you'll be able to go back to sleep."

With a shaky voice, he relayed his dream:
"I dreamed that my foot stepped in the poo," he said, honestly upset.

WHAT?!?
I tried hard not to laugh aloud.
Noah continued, "But the poo was in the toilet, and I put my foot in the toilet and stepped in it."
"But you didn't really do that," I countered. "It was only a dream, and dreams cannot hurt us.
Now go back to sleep."

He did.
I couldn't sleep; I was too busy smiling.