A couple of weeks ago, I had a nightmare. About kittens.
In the dream, I was pulling kittens out of the closet in the utility room of my grandmother’s house. There’s one wall of cabinets, and every time I found a kitten and handed it off to some unknown person, she’d put the kitten outside. I argued that that was not solving the problem — as I found more kittens.
I told my mother about the dream at least a two weeks ago; it was something we laughed about. When my mother, brother and I started going through some of my grandmother’s things (and after a few drinks — my mother is a lightweight), there were several jokes about who would have kittens, or someone would “meow” as they handed off or opened a box. We capped off the night by opening the cupboards in the utility room.
What’d I find? Kittens — kind of.