Dreams are weird things, aren’t they? I’m forever waking up remembering the weird dreams I had the night before. Last night was no different. My dream definitely resided in Weird Town, population me.
In it, I was flicking through a fancy dress catalogue, looking for something new to wear. Now bear in mind, it wasn’t a case of picking out a Hallowe’en costume, this was just me looking for an any-time outlandish costume. So, after flicking through the pages for a while, I settled upon a Mr. Snuffleupagus costume from Sesame Street. Yep, pretty strange eh? So my costume came in and I couldn’t wait to try it on. I tore the box open, pulled on the body suit, then my Dad and sister helped me put on the head. I’m not sure if it had the blinking eyelashes that the real deal Mr. Snuffleupagus had, but the costume was flippin’ cool! Before long I was running up and down the road outside my house trying to make people double take and jump at the site of Snuffy cavorting around Winterton-on-sea (my English home).
The dream concluded with my dad, sister and I cooking up a plan to scare my younger brother. My dad would sneak into his room with his camcorder and wait on me to enter the room. I would sneak in and stand over my brother. My sister would then call to him so he’d wake up, scream, and my dad would capture it all on video.
Sadly, before I could pull off the practical joke of the century… I woke up. Doncha hate it when that happens?
But this kind of makes me wonder. Am I a furry, suppressing my feelings? Surely this is the kind of dream that furries have? I may have to seek counselling!