Alloneword.

Writing dreams down is a fascinating practice, and one that I've done for a few years now. I receive a dream remembered as a gift, especially one that you remember in some detail. It's also somewhat liberating that dreams are unfiltered by a social setting. They can be frightening, enraging, and many times just plain funny, and always unfiltered, which is what I love so much about the exchange in this dream:

I was sitting outside and Simeon was standing on my knee as he often does. I said to him, "can you say Ma-ma?"

"Mommy."

My head snapped back, creating the inevitable double-chin. "Can you say Da-Da-Da-Da-Da?"

"Daddy."

I looked up to Sarah, who was standing near-by and said, "Did you hear that?" She laughed and put her head over my shoulder to see if Simeon's Talk Show would continue.

I felt so proud of him, and pulled him to me and he wrapped his arms around my neck. "I love you, Son."

"I love you too, Daddy."

"What the..." I thought. Then I said, "when did you learn all these words — and sentences?!"

"I've been storing them up."

"Well, mister, what other words have you learned?"

"Dickpenis." Yes. All one word.

Just before the dream ended I said to Simeon, "I remember the day in Maui when you first found your dickpenis."