We dream of stars

Good little Emma.
Tiny and quaint and so funny.

No matter what we talk about she has a story or five to tell me.
Frequently she will tell me HER dreams and then I feel normal again.
She dreams things almost (almost) as odd as do I.
Of course she is also convinced we moved her into a new home and is always wondering how exactly we accomplished this magical feat. She seems to think I was in on it.

Emma was telling me we dream of stars.
"Do we?" I said.
"Yes of course don't you remember?"
"Uh,... I do?"
"Well it was all your idea dear. I only came along because you insisted."

All right. It makes a mystical sort of nonsense.
More Noodledom.
All hail Queen Me.

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