We've been talking about bad dreams at our house a lot lately (although Sam insists they are called "naughty" dreams). Sam's been getting out of bed, worried he'll have a naughty dream if he falls asleep, or coming into our room in the middle of the night because he just had a naughty dream.
Lala: You girls never had bad dreams like that.
Me: Oh, yes, I did.
Lala: I don't remember that.
Me: Mom! All the time! And it was probably your fault, too. You used to save all your cautionary tales for bedtime stories.
Lala: What do you mean?
Me: You'd tuck us into bed, kiss us good night and say, 'Don't get married until after you finish college. If a stranger ever tries to grab you, run away screaming. Don't ever get into a car with a stranger. Don't do drugs or you'll end up living under a bridge without a bed to sleep in. Ok, now sleep tight.' Then you'd leave and I'd lie awake, petrified of all the bad things that could possibly happen to me.
Lala: Well...those are important things to know.