baby, you're Canadian, she said...

...


i had a dream last night that I was recently married to a jewish artist in his late thirties. we had a tiny baby, just a few weeks old. his name was isaac einstein and his parents didn't seem to overwhelmingly approve of me. for sure, my parents didn't approve of him because we lived in an apartment underground between several subway lines with a bunch of other people, including lizzy. our families had come to visit us, and we were trying to convince isaac that we should move to a nice two-bedroom in brooklyn, rather than raise our baby dodging trains and climbing down access ladders, but isaac refused to leave manhattan, despite my pleading. the baby was beautiful, and my husband was not bad either; he wasn't tall and was a bit dorky, with a nice face, and short straight brown hair and a funny leather jacket. at one point in the dream, i hugged him and felt very safe indeed. i was very attached to both of them, and felt so odd when i woke up.

as ever, i wonder if someplace in manhattan, a stubborn artist called isaac woke up this morning wondering about a dream he had in which he was married to a shiksa named vanessa and had a little baby...

hmm.