I Wish!

Rolling the sleeping child across the bed, I gently sit her up to dress her for school. Being my granddaughter, it’s no surprise that she wakes up talking: “Grandmother, I had a dream about you.”

“Really?” I slide her nightgown over her head, pleased that she’s thinking of me.

“You were acting all crazy, like bllluuahhh (imitates seizure) and my Mama said you got the wrong medicine and it made you sick.”

“Hhmm,” I say, wondering if this is some sort of premonition, “was I older, or did I look like I do now?”

“You were older. About…ummm....thirty.”