What is it with me and Sunday mornings? Just a few weeks ago, I was able to sleep until noon, if I had so choosed. Now I am up at the crack of dawn, awake with the birds and reveling in the silent moments when everything is still.

Still, I'd rather be sleeping.

This morning however, I was glad for the sun shining into my window, waking me up from a dream I'd not want to repeat. I'm not sure what it was that set this one in motion but the gist of it was I was trying to save these kids from being blown into smithereens.

Enter Dream Mode

We'd been caught stealing. Sure, we were just trying to survive. But, we should have known that we could never have gotten away with the snowblower. It was big, shiny and red. Not a small thing you could tuck back inside your bookbag without looking extremely obvious.

We lived in a hovel. A small run down apartment where even the fleas had fleas and rats were considered pets. Still, it was a place to call home, Ikea furnishings and all.

The day was hot, so we decided to go down to the river for a swim. How refreshing it was to ride the gentle waves on a big black inner tube, in water that was both cool, clean and free of fish, frogs, snakes and any other nasty creature known to hang out in water.

We were having a good time, when out of the blue we heard them. The deep voices of men hidden in the forest along the banks, hatching their sinister plan. My ears perked to attention, recognizing the names of their intended victims. I turned to look at my water raft partner, a good looking man whose name I did not know, but one I evidently knew.

"We've got to do something!" I said, paddling as quickly and as quietly as I could back to shore.

"But how?" he asked, looking at me as if I were certifiable. "They have bombs. They have guns. We're dripping wet holding an inner tube."

"We've got to get to those kids. We've got to get there first. Get them out of that house without alerting the bad guys, so they'll think there nefarious plan succeeded."

We scrambled out of the water, running down the bank at full speed back to the house.

"Get the keys to the truck!" I yelled, climbing inside the big, black cab.

"Here you go!" He shouted back, throwing the keys in a perfect arc, as I reached out to grab them with my hands.

I fired the engine up, waiting long enough for him to get one foot in the door, before taking off and sending a spray of gravel up as the tires took a mad spin to the end of the driveway.

In a few brief moments we were there.

"Park the truck in the garage. I'll go get the kids." I told him, sprinting up the stairs and into the house.

I found them in their bedroom. A boy and a girl, both redheaded with freckles.

"Come with me." I told them. "I've got to get you out now."

"But where are we going?" they cried together in unison.

"Bad people are on their way here, I don't have time to explain. Just come on."

I took a quick glance outside the window, watching in terror as an unfamiliar vehicle slowed down in front of the house, two men grinning shark like smiles in the front seat.

"Hurry. We've got to get out of here. Leave everything else behind, there's no time! Get down to the garage!"

I hustled the children back down the stairs, taking care so that no one tripped over the other.

He stood there waiting by the open door of the truck.

"Get inside." he said to the kids, taking their hands to help them up.
Through the frosted windows, I could see the men moving closer to the garage, a liquid filled bottle held carefully in their hands. I knew in a moment, it was some sort of explosive, meant to take out the house and whatever was in it.

"We don't have time," I whispered, "to make it out of the front of the house. We'll have to go through the back."

I knew we would only have mere seconds of an advantage as I fired up the old truck engine was more.

"Everyone hang onto your hats!" I cried, pressing my foot down on the accelerator. Watching as the back wall of the garage crumbled under the force of our impact, giving way to safety on the other side.

"Everything's going to be fine." I said, watching as the house behind me blew up in flames. My timing perfect with the explosion, so the bag guys weren't aware that they had failed.

I breathed a sigh of relief and then ...

I awoke.

End dream sequence.

I have the oddest dreams, I know. And the silly thing is, I remember most of them.

Which leaves me with one question.

Where is good old Freud, when you need him?