Sunday, March 15, 2009

This one involved my family and Batman

My son, another young boy his age, and Batman were cruising around in some kind of aircraft. They land in a field, and somehow, either he snuck back on or never disembarked, my son and the other kid take the plane for a joyride.

Batman didn't seem too concerned about their safety vis-à-vis piloting the craft, but he did worry about an enemy detecting them. He muttered that they needed to stay above the clouds. Imagine the most out of control drunk driver: he weaves badly, but in only two dimensions. Now picture the same in three dimensions.

I heard a narrator's voice-over, and he dissed the plane's construction, calling it a converted hovercraft, which sounded much more humble than it does to my conscious ear. Around then, the plane split, as though in an evasive mode, with two halves of the cockpit rocketing in separate directions, and what remained fell to the ground.

The narrator commented on the construction of the trailer that the plane's debris destroyed, somehow reinforced, but the thing had been crushed like an empty beer can on the side of the road.

My wife comes into the picture, and she was distraught because she thought our son had died in the crash. Several friends of ours were trying to comfort her, but it wasn't working. Sam lashed out at one, accusing her of not understanding because her daughter is a homeschooler, false in both reality and the dream. I tried to calm her and explain that her accusation was unfair, but she was hysterical.

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