This morning Grace walked in to my room bleary eyed and said “Mommy, I dreamed about tomatoes all night long.” Kind of unusual for a 6 year old.
More unusual? “Mom, in one of my dreams, this man had a dog that was really a tomato, and he really loved tomatoes, and he ate his dog and didn’t realize it because he thought it was a tomato.”
What do I do with that?
When life gives you tomato dogs, make salsa?
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