It was fun, that is, until the night I had a dream that reminded me of being 7 or 8 or even 13 years old, lying in my bed in the dark, afraid. I remember trying to be as still as possible, with my blanket pulled up over my mouth and nose, not even breathing for fear that if I moved or made a sound, some unidentified threat would find me.
I woke from that dream, and I was right back there. Lying in the dark, paralyzed by fear, except not, because I knew it wasn't real. And after that dream, I can so understand why my boy wants reassurance in the middle of the night when he's scared. He, at least, is brave enough to get out of bed and find comfort.
Interestingly, since I began having these crazy dreams every night, Bubby hasn't woken me up once. I wonder if his dreams have transferred to me. And, just in case you were still wondering, yes, I dream in color. I remember that green ooze vividly.