I wake up from this dream and shake my head to rid myself of the old haunting feeling that I've failed AP English. And thank God that the only writing I have to do is for my three faithful readers - thanks Sum, Steph, and Alicia for not grading me so harshly!
This morning, though, I ran into Mrs. Bateman at the grocery store. My first thought was, "She eats?!" and my second thought was, "Where's her car so I can egg it?" Just kidding. I wouldn't do that. I had a child with me at the time. Duh. Number one lesson from parenting books - never egg teachers' cars with toddlers in tow.
But it did get me to thinking...[insert smug remark here.]...wouldn't it be fun to see Mrs. Bateman and ask her how her kids are? Then, because she's not so aloof anymore, she would ask me how I am. I would smile and sigh, and quietly admit, "Oh, life is simple. I just change diapers and write bestselling novels."
This is such a better dream than the one I keep having. And I could settle for non-bestselling novels. They could be pamphlets on how to keep a pantry clean, for all I care.
If I ever actually write something other than an occasional email or blog post, I will consider my life completely finished, job well done. At honest moments like these, I need to refer back to my very own Sir Topham Hat post, and let the whole dream go. But, perhaps when the kids are older...when I'm not so distracted...when my brain cells that left the remote control in the refrigerator decide it's time to funnel their energy towards composition...I will write.
But being the anti-Steel-Magnolias person that I am, we must tie up any and all loose ends. The boy finds himself at the temple much later. He's filled with peace, but still penniless. Begging for money, Peter tells him, "In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!" And he does.
Hooray for happy endings! Hooray for book ideas! Now, if I can only get it down on paper...and if only the paper doesn't have Mrs. Bateman's red pen marks slashed across it. She wouldn't do that, would she?
In the meantime, I continue to dream. And laugh. And hunt for the remote control.