This morning, I had the most vivid dream. Josh and I were sitting in our separate recliners in the living room of our old house on Pennsylvania. A small boy with messy blonde hair walks out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. He comes back into the living room with a big glass of chocolate milk. Before enjoying some cartoons, he goes over and gives Josh a big hug and then comes to me and sits in my lap for a moment to give me a kiss. I ask him, "Are you feeling better?" He shrugs his shoulders and replies, "I guess." I put my hand on his forehead and said, "Well, you still feel a little warm, but not as warm as you did." This boy smiles at me and hops off my lap, retreating to the couch to watch some cartoons.
Even though this was such a short dream, I absolutely loved it because our child looked so much like Josh; one thing I remember the most about this little boy was the freckles on his face. I wish we had said his name in the dream so we could have an idea of a boy's name. All we know at this point is if we have a boy, his middle name will be Dean.
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