Bad Dreams

Charlie was up four or five times last night with a slew of bad dreams. They ranged from "the giraffe ate my pancake!!" (the giraffe in question deserves a whole other post but I have just not gotten to it yet) to "The giant clam ate Daddy!" That last one was a direct result of his bedtime story, Why Is The Sea Salty? which apparently is not as innocous as it sounds. He required a lot of assurance, at 3am, that giant clams live at the very bottom of the ocean and do absolutely nothing but sit there, and that they certainly do not occupy their time by eating Daddys.

I sure hope tonight is better!