Had a dream last night where it was the three of us (you, myself and Lord Byron) and we were crossing the road trying to get inside a trailer on the other side. You ran ahead and entered the abode first. I held your son's arm and we began to cross the cement arteries of the road together. Inexplicably, Amanda Shannon was behind us smoking a cigarette. A truck began to plough down the center of the road and I held your son's arm tighter so that he would refrain from running into the street and get hit by the smog- scowl of the oncoming vehicle. Byron then broke my grip and continued to run into the street as the truck accumulated velocity. I caught him at the last second and placed him in what in my vocation is called a small-child restraint (both arms lassoed around his chest in an X-like fashion) and we both barely avoided being hit by the passing truck...crazy...
(note:Jesskah and I broke up less than a week after this dream was perceived)
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