I had a dream about my son last night. I suppose I dreamt
about him because I will be helping him finish off some of the remaining
details on his garage today. It should only take about four hours or so with my
help, but I imagine without my help he would be done in about two. It’s nice
that he keeps me in the game and I like to pass on some of the knowledge that I
have gain from a lifetime of living. Things like “Never trust a Dalmatian
sleeping on a step or even a Collie for that matter.” I’m not sure just how
this will come in handy today building the garage, but you would do well to
keep it in mind.
When I walked up to his house, I saw him towelling off his
head in the basement. I asked his lovely wife Tara if Brendan had slept in and
she just laughed. “No, somehow he managed to dump a bunch of chemicals all over
himself. What a goof!” Women tend to take this attitude once they have
ascertained that their man is alright and there was no permanent damage. The
concern comes first and then the ridicule.
Now, a man would have seen the other possibilities. We all
know from reading comic books that a bath in a chemical soup will turn you into
either a super hero or I suppose if they are bad chemicals, a super villain.
What I am having trouble with is just where he was storing
all of these chemicals that they would be able to shower him by accident. Why
would he have all of these toxic chemicals just hanging around the house? What
was he doing with these chemicals in the first place and why did he start
working without me?
He came out of the house and made as if he were going to hug
me. I back pedaled and held my hands in front of me saying “One evil genius in
the family is quite enough thank you very much. Just keep your hands to
yourself!” He looked at me like I was an idiot, but that was probably because
he hadn’t read as many comic books as I have in my life. He shrugged and
offered me a coffee. “Only if Tara makes it” I said.
I can’t blame him, but I will be watching him for any tell
tale signs of him either planning to take over the world or making a device
that will destroy a city or two. It’s funny how I just automatically went to
him being an evil super villain and completely forgot that he could just as
easily develop super powers. I’ll keep an eye out for that too.
Having a super hero in the family would be pretty handy.
Arwen and her husband are putting in a fence this year and having a super
Brendan would mean no more digging post holes for the fence, we can just get
Brendan to push the posts in. In the past few years I have become uncomfortable
hanging over the edge of the roof cleaning out the eaves trough, but now I can
just get Brendan to do it with his super breath. I have a lump of coal hanging
around here that I got in my stocking one year for Christmas, and a super
Brendan could use his powers to turn it into a diamond.
Well, I just arrived home from spending the day working on
the garage, and I don’t know if “dream” Brendan is good or evil, but the real
Brendan cracked the whip like a mean Simon Legree. He did feed me though, so he
can’t be all bad…
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