weird

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Interpreting A Dream: The Hamburglar

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Last week, I woke up in a cold sweat. Terrified.

I had been dreaming.

In my dream, my son was four (he is ten in real life).

In diapers. I know this because in my dream I tried to change his diaper with a maxi pad.

That wasn’t the disturbing part.

In my dream, my husband and I went to a tattoo parlor. My husband didn’t get a tattoo. I didn’t get a tattoo. We let our son get a tattoo.

On his forehead.

It took up the whole space.

It was of The Hamburglar.

What could that possibly mean?

It gets worse. In my dream, we loved the Hamburglar design so much on my son’s forehead (and who wouldn’t?), that we decided to go a little further and tattoo Scooby Doo on his neck.

We are fantastic dream parents.

But Scooby Doo wasn’t enough by himself.

So we added the whole theme song across his throat.

The piece de resistance was the “Rror Rror Rror Rror” speech bubble above Scooby Doo’s head.

I think dream Jenni spent too much time in Shaggy’s van.

Then I realized what we had done and that it was permanent. And now his life was ruined. Unless in the future, Hamburglar is President and our National Anthem begins with, “Scooby Dooby Doo, Where are you?”. I panicked and sobbed and sobbed.

I woke up crying.

I tried to look up the meaning with some key words: “dream interpretation four year old tattoo Hamburglar.” Google spit back a character name from Glee at the top of my search results, “Finn Hudson.”

Thanks for nothin’ Google.

Now I will never know what my sub-conscience was trying to tell me.

Although, if I were to guess, I would imagine it would have something to do with wanting a hamburger as a snack.

I think it has everything nothing to do with my parenting skills.

I also looked up “dream interpretation tattoo on forehead.” Some other poor soul had dreamed that they had tattooed a tattoo on their face. They asked, “What does it mean to dream you have a tattoo on your face?”

To which someone on the internet replied, “it means you shouldn’t always follow your dreams.”

Dream Jenni only has one response to that, “Rror. Rror. Rror. Rror.”

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“…Roar. Oh. Oh. Oh…”

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“I’ve got the eye of the tiger…”

“Hungry Eyes”

The Evil Eye

Eye’m Watching You

The Eye of Mordor

Is There Something On My Back?

Yes! Mothers Do Have Eyes In The Back Of Their…Backs?

As you can see (he he), it was hard to come up with an appropriate title for this post. There were so many. So many ways to perturb and confuse be a dork.

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I love this wrap by Mara Hoffman. It is called Eye Shawl on most sites (them obviously having decided that it did not need an appropriate punny title. Grown-ups. Seriously, how hard would it have been to add two words? Eye Shawl Be Back. Three puns in one! Oh, the missed cringes opportunities). I scored mine for a very fair price from Anthropologie (they called it Maricopa Wrap ) when it went on sale.

I had watched it and watched it. I would show my husband its picture and exclaim that our love affair would never happen. It was out of my league. And then repeat daily. My husband loved that part.

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And now she’s here! And I love her. And she obviously loves me. I mean just look how she’s hanging on me. Humboldt would never give me such love.

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I felt a very spiritual connection to this wrap. Yes. In a weird way. In a good way. But this wrap brings me peace. Really fun peace.

Do you have any eyedeas for the teyetle? Any other eyedeas on how to sty-le it? Seriously, Eye need them. Don’t be jealous of meye creativity, but Eye have worn it with a black shirt, too. Meye ingenuity never seeses to annoy agaze.

* P.S. Eye shared this on The Pleated Poppy!

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Elf On The Shelf

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Full disclaimer: Yes, I collect gnomes. There is a big difference between gnomes and elves. The biggest one being the smile. Elves are always smiling. It is annoying. And creepy. And devious. I could go on. Gnomes, well, the little guys know how to keep it real. They are grouchy and they don’t mind showing it. With an elf, who knows what is lurking behind that smile?

I hope to never find out.

Did you know I was such a fantasy creature bigot?

If you like your Elf On The Shelf maybe you should not read further. This gnome has a lot to say (in a tongue-in-cheek, please take it in good fun way):

The story:

I called my friend the other night, and as we were talking, the subject of her Elf On The Shelf came up. She was deciding where exactly he was going to show up the next day.

I had a suggestion.

It was outside. It was hollow. It holds disgusting things (which makes it perfect). It only gets picked up once a week (not so perfect).

If you do not know what Elf On The Shelf is, well, you are not alone. I discovered the creepy little guy only three short years ago. I had read about him on some forum and I loved the idea of him. I sought him out…and that is when the nightmares began.

I don’t get it.

I don’t get how thousands upon thousands of households every year host this weird creation. Am I the only one that thinks he might possibly be the scariest thing ever created just a tad bit disturbing?

I will admit I probably would have bought one. The idea is so cute. Right up my alley. Every day, the little elf gets posed throughout the house in various degrees of mischief. The children discover him upon waking up and get excited to see what he is up to.

Cute, right?

But those eyes. And that grin. And those crossed spindly legs…

When a family adopts their elf, they name him and that is when he gets his magic and spies on them all day and then reports their indiscretions deeds to Santa at night. Who knew the jolly red fellow was such a voyeur?

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I like the rules that come with him in a book. There are only two.

I can think of so many more.

1. You cannot touch him.

Um, no problem there.

How about let’s make that a vice versa kind of deal? How about let’s make that a rule?

2. He cannot move while anyone in the household is still awake.

Then, when they are asleep he wreaks havoc.

How many nights do you think I could go without sleep?

Do you think the toothpicks holding my eyes open could be used as a weapon against me?

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So, my husband and I both agreed we would never be buying this monstrosity elf. It was agreed upon. Signed. Sealed. No more discussion.

But we were shopping at Costco the other day. Do you see where this is going?

My husband stopped in front of me. “Do you think we should get one of those?”

I looked to where he was pointing. It. Was. A. Mountain. Of. Elves. On. The. Shelves. (Literally. They were on the shelves.)

Traitor.

“I th-th-thought we agreed that that was n-n-never, ever going to happen,” I stuttered.

“We did. But, look! This one is a girl. She doesn’t look as creepy.”

I looked. Indeed it was a girl. She was smiling. I looked again. They were all smiling.

Shudder.

They thought they had won.

I could see them planning their home invasion.

Not so fast there Ms. Elf! Don’t ya know gnomes trump elves every time.

I grabbed my husband’s hand and led him away from the cute cunning demons creatures.

I turned and smiled back at them in triumph.

I swear I saw one of them wave.

Or maybe it was another gesture…