In your head

The Little Warrior, who's favorite song is Dead Man's Party often dreams of zombies.

When the Younger Boy awakens in the morning he almost always yells, "Can I get out now?"

It's not like we lock the Boy down at night, he's in his bed, with his bedroom door closed. Still, he won't get out of the bed or leave the room until either me or My Lovely Bride go in and get him. When we get there, he almost always tells the person who is getting him up about any dreams he's had, which as I've typed, often involve zombies.

What I find even more interesting than the zombie dreams, is how the Boy chooses to recap them to me and his Mom. He goes about it in a very Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus sort of a way.

If My Lovely Bride gets the Boy up, Wy Wy will usually walk into the front room and tell his Mom something like this:

"Mommy, zombies were trying to get me. In my dream."
"Really...I'm sorry baby."
"It's ok. I ran away. I was fast. I had my fast shoes on."

The Boy is four, and he already knows that zombies are slow as well as a few other things you'll read in a minute. But, in all seriousness I have no idea how or why he knows all of this zombie information. It isn't like we let him watch Night of the Living Dead. The only zombie flick that he's watched is Scooby Doo on Zombie Island. In that, the zombies are actually the good guys, trying to protect those meddlesome kids from Simone, Lena and Jacques who are werecats who want to suck out their life force. But I've digressed. Back to my point.

If I get the Boy up, he wants me to carry him into the front room while he tells me something like this:

"Daddy...zombies was in my dream."
"Really..."
"Yeah."
"Are you ok?"
"Yeah, I killed them."
"Really. How do you kill a zombie?"
"You shoot them in the head, Dad."

Until I BLOG again...Zombie, zombie, zombie.