N-Oedipus

I woke up crying this morning. Literally sobbing, with heaving shoulders and soaking pillow, from a violently vivid dream in which Krusty had died and I had to embalm him... It was horrifying.

Well actually, if you want the whole story, I was embalming him to a very, very sad song by Damien Rice that we often listen to, and then, in my dream, I suddenly say to everyone "we shouldn't be sad, we should remember Krusty the way he was and dance the way he used to dance." At which point we all stood up to emulate his trademark snakehips/epileptic moves. And then I realised how impossible my husband would be to replace. And woke up in a crying fit.

I have read that these dreams are quite common (well, I'm not sure about the embalming part) as the birth gets closer, but I don't know if I can go through that again. Of course it could be that bambino is sending me signals to get rid of the man who keeps laying his head on my belly and (for some reason) singing the Scoobidoo theme tune over and over again. Or it could be my darling son and his early Oedipus complex telling me to get rid of Daddy so that we can be just the two of us forever.

Or it could just be me being, as Krusty often calls me, "Needypuss" and needing more attention now than ever.

In any case, I now know what my worst nightmare is...