Oi, did I ever have one hell of a creepy dream last night. I dreamed I was married--yes, to a woman--and she was pregnant with our child. Also, she was dressed and wore her hair like someone in the late 1960s. Her time came, but we couldn't get to a hospital on time, so she gave birth to the baby outside our house. The baby was a boy, and he was healthy, and I was ecstatically happy. We put him to sleep in what looked like one of those clear plastic shoe boxes, and he was sleeping sweetly just behind my right shoulder as we sat down to dinner in what looked the dining room of the house where I was raised. At some point I turned around to look at the baby was shocked to find that not only was he dead, he had shriveled up into this tiny, toy-like, horribly dehydrated figure.
That's when I woke up and I remember no more.
Anyone care to take a crack at that one?