snap snap
Last night I had a disturbing dream. This always seems to happen when I can’t find a way to get comfortable in bed.
I was talking on the phone with Emily. Celeste and I had just been some place and Emily was mentioning that there was another place near where we were that served tea that might be fun to visit with the kids one day. So, Celeste and I were taking a walk though a small park that joined the two in order to go check it out.
As I walked through the park I was holding Celeste in one arm and still talking to Emily. I looked over through some trees to the right at a pond and saw an Alligator there, just coming out of the water. Before I could run he snapped at us catching Celeste’s left leg in his jaws just below the knee.
Here’s where it gets even stranger. The alligator didn’t bite all the way through. In fact, if he would just open his mouth she would more than likely have nothing more than a few puncture wounds that would heal quickly. So I was holding Celeste with an Alligator attached to her leg and had a choice to make. I could kick at him, maybe getting him to let go, or maybe pissing him off so much that he attacks us again, this time, no doubt, much worse. I could pull Celeste out of his mouth, more than likely leaving her leg seriously damaged and then run like hell. Or I could just wait to see what he does next, hoping that he opens his mouth and leaves us alone.
This scenario is how I see almost every difficult choice I have to make. And similar choices are currently at the forefront of my mind.
In my dream, the last part of it, from the bite onward, continued to repeat itself. Each time I’d try something a little bit different. The outcome was never good. In one scenario, we managed to break free from the Alligator only to find his friend waiting a few seconds down the path. However, in my dream, waiting it out was never attempted. Trusting the Alligator was simply not an option.
