Flying to Dreamland

Daddy’s strong hands scoop me up.
“Ready, bumble bee?” he laughs.
“Yay! Yay!” I cry. He speeds up the stairs that lead to my bedroom, holding me out so that I can fly. I zoom among the flowers, buzzing and squealing all the way to my bedroom, in the hive.
“Alright, quick were are those jammies?”Daddy asks, his eyes twinkling in the darkness.
“Silly, Daddy! You need to turn on the lights! You forgot!” I giggle.
“Oh, did I? Well, I didn’t notice,”he replies mockingly. I run as fast my little legs can carry me, over to the wardrobe. I grab the fleece “feety jammies”, that are too big, and hand them to my father. As he unzipps them, I notice he is struggling.
“I’ll help you! You just need to pull hard!” I instruct, gently shifting the material into my own hands taking note of the size compared to Daddy’s.
“Thank you,” he replies, “I don’t know what Mommy and I would do without you, Lauren,” he admits.
“You wouldn’t,”I confirm. Daddy just chuckles to himself in response - probably some sort of “grown-up humor”. It is the silliest of all the humors and doesn’t make any sense - except, apparently, to adults. After adjusting the jammies, I scale the mountainous terrain of my bed, my climbing gear jingling from my belt. The mountain is very steep, and at times someone else might have slipped off, but not me! I am the best of the best, - just like a monkey in the jungle - but even I need to be cautious because one wrong step and down, down, down I go. Finally, after an extremely admirable struggle, I am at the top. On the peak I stand, gazing down at all below me.
“-der covers,” the mountains echo.
“Excuse me?” I inquire, my voice booming out and coming back in - in, out, in, out.
“Come on you, climb on under the covers,” Daddy repeats. In response, I burrow down into them and peek out at him, my eyes wide and naive, my soul waiting to be discovered. Daddy pulls the blanket down to my feet again and hands me my beloved stuffed animals, one by one. After I have them all in order, I wrap them in the largest hug I can muster and Daddy drapes the blankets over me.
“Oh Milkey, you need to stop climbing up there all of the time,” I laugh, gently scolding the stuffed cow sitting on Daddy’s head. I reach over, take her down and cradle Milkey in my arms. We say our prayers, and asking what I want to hear about, Daddy begins to tell a story. Slightly at first, I doze and new adventures await me in dreamland. I zoom through the flowers, the trees, the grass, and buzz around other bees. What an adventure it would be to fly.




Raindrops on Roses


The raindrops fall around me, the thunder rumbling in the distance. My small hand timidly reaches out from under the umbrella, trying to capture the cloud water.
“Come on Lauren, to the treehouse,” Rose calls.
“Yeah, to the treehouse!” I respond. We race over to the wooden home, pretending to swim our way there.
“Rosie, who are you going to be in the game?” I inquire, making my way up the ladder, and being blown every which way in our make-believe storm.
“Nim. You can be Alex,” She says, seeming to read my mind. On rainy days we always play “Nim’s Island” - a fantastic game based on the movie we adore. Depending on the day, we are Alex Rover - the girl version - and Nim. We act out crazy scenarios and always have the best time.
“Whoa! Help! Nimmmmmm,”I shout, falling into the raging waters below, but suddenly, I am not falling. Nim’s delicate hand shot out at the very last second, grabbing mine.
“Alex, that was a close one! You could have gotten eaten by a shark!” Nim shouts, trying to be heard over the angry storm.
“Thanks Nim. Let’s go inside,” I say, leading her under the shelter of the tree house roof. Our pretend hurricane rages outside the walls, the rain pounding, the thunder booming, and the lightning flashing. Although in reality, it is barely drizzling.
“What’s for dinner Nim?” I whisper, hoping not to wake our baby seal, Selkie.
“I guess we can make seaweed stew,” She giggles, “-that is if we have any more in the cabinet.”
I search for it, all around the kitchen, but to no avail.
“It looks like we are in need of an adventure Nim,” I declare, as I jump out the window onto a study vine. I swing through the trees with Nim trailing close behind me. We leap off and land in the sand. Scanning the beach for fresh seaweed, I quickly spot a cluster, and dash over to it. When I go to pick it up, Nim stops me pointing to a small lump in the middle.
“Did you see that? It moved Alex, I swear!” She proclaimes.
“No way! Quick Nim, hand me that stick!” I instruct, watching the lump intensely as if staring at it might make the mystery more entertaining. We gently lift the soggy plants away, unveiling a teeny little turtle, about the size of my 6 year old palm.
“Oh,” we gasp in unison.
“He is adorable!” I laugh, observing the lightning bolt pattern on his shell.
“I wonder what he’s doing under there,” Nim says, indirectly addressing the turtle. We decide to keep him and bring him home along with the seaweed. I fashion a bed for him out of palm leaves, while Nim brews our dinner. Then, we hear an unusual bird call, almost sounding like a woman’s voice. Suddenly everything fades away as we recognise the voice as Rose’s mother’s, calling us in for our real dinner. Together we swing onto the rope, the used to be a vine, and run across the lawn which was an ocean just moments ago. We laugh and talk about our game on the way inside, fondly recalling the events we wish had truly occurred. I take Rose’s hand and we promise to always be friends.
“Forever and ever,” we vow, envisioning ourselves much older, winding the clock forward to a day we hope to see together. The pitter patter of the raindrops becoming the tick tock of our future.