This morning, a weary seven-year-old boy wandered into my bedroom and snuggled in next to me. Still warm and rumpled with sleep he told me, "Momma, I had a nightmare."
When I asked if he wanted to talk about it, he told me what he dreamt:
"It was my birthday. But no one came. Well, Oma came, but no one else showed up. I didn't get any presents. All I got was a card."
"When I opened it, it was empty."
*sigh*
(I want to punch that dream in the face.)
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