What Dreams May Come

Every morning, I ask the kids about their dreams.  I'm not sure if they, especially Natalie, understand what I mean but it doesn't hurt to ask. Whether it is truly their subconscious in action while they sleep or just their imagination sparked by my question,  they always have a story for me and I love it. 

Last night Jack dreamed of an electrical dragon.  Judging by the relish with which he told the story, that is a good thing.  Who knew?  Then it was Natalie's turn which started with Mr. Worrywart chanting, "Not a bad one!  Not a bad one!  Not a bad one!"  Her answer, of course: "It was BAD."  This was followed by him dramatically collapsing on the floor from the horror to come.  The rest of the conversation went as follows:

N, matter-of-factly:  "I got captured."

C, aghast:  "You got CAPTURED?  WHAT?  By whom???"

N, shrugging:  "The bad guys."

J, rapt:  "Ooooooh, yeah."

C, treading lightly:  "Honey, what happened then?"

N, warming to her story:  "They took me to Jack's room!  Locked me in!"

J, always ready with a lesson for his little sister: "Well, if the door gets locked, you just turn the knob to pop the lock..."

C, quickly avoiding the subject of how to lock and/or unlock doors:  "Okay, enough!  Wow, Nat-o.  Captured...that's crazy."

N, gleefully:  "Yeah, CRAZY.  Crazy capture!"

Captured by commandos.  Oy.  So much for dreams of sugarplums dancing in my girl's head.