The Impossible Dream

 

The Impossible Dream

I dreamed about this story last night.  I don’t know what it means, after all, I don’t even have a brother.

It was after supper and homework was done when I ran up the wooden steps to the second floor of our house.  My hard-bottomed Mary Janes made a nice tapping sound on every wooden stair that I climbed.  My pigtails were still intact after a long, tiring day at school in the third grade.  I paused at the top and looked into my brother’s bathroom across the hall from his bedroom.  I was told to stay out of there, but that just enticed me to want to go in there more.  I could claim it was an “emergency”.  I entered and closed the door.  I hesitated because the lock was broken, and I couldn’t maintain my privacy.  I thought about leaving and going to the other bathroom, but convinced it would only take a minute, I proceeded with my business.  As soon as I sat down on the toilet, my brother, who was 15 years old, burst into the bathroom.  He ignored me at first and then our eyes met and simultaneously we both gritted our teeth and whisper shouted, “get out”!  I said I was here first, and he proceeded to go to the sink and look at himself in the mirror.  He drew the water in the basin and began putting shaving cream on his barely-there stubbled face.  Again, I said get out, I was here first, to which he replied “well, you are not supposed to be in here”.  I thought about my options.  I could scream for our parents but probably would only get myself in trouble.  I could plead with my brother not to tell them.  I had no bargaining chips.  He knew that I secretly smuggled the family dog into my bed to sleep with me at night, which was not permissible either.  He really did have the upper hand.  I could diplomatically ask my parents to fix the lock on the bathroom door, but in doing so could give my disobedience away.  I was caught between a rock and a hard place in this situation.  I said, if you have any decency, let me out of here without a peep, and I promise never to come here again.  At this point, he was shaving his face like he thought he was a man.  I sat there, feet dangling, my jumper skirt covered me, so there was no exposure.  He said, okay, I’ll step out, you finish up and get out of here.  I hope you learned your lesson!  I was relieved that he was graciously giving me an escape from this predicament.  I guess I owed him now, more than ever.  I did learn a valuable lesson from this interaction: before you go into a place you shouldn’t be, make sure you have some blackmailing material on your brother, just in case he wants to rat you out!

What a weird dream!

  Tammy Harvey  9/2/2025