Dream a (boring) little dream of me

Of all the areas in which Mrs. Brad and I differ – being handy around the house (her, not me), being a good driver (her, not me), reading other people's moods (her, not me), cooking well (her, not me) and knowing 1970s and 1980s sports facts and music lyrics (me, not her) – there is perhaps no greater gulf than in how we dream.

Not our wishes. Our actual dreams, while sleeping.

First of all, she remembers dreams nearly every morning. I remember about one a year.

Second, her dreams combine people, places and circumstances from all periods of her life. They are often packed with emotion and leave her affected for the rest of the day.

Mine are bland and uneventful.

If they were made into movies, her dreams would be psychedelic, crazy rides, with cameo appearances and hidden meanings. Mine would be poorly done documentaries on boring topics.

A typical example: Mrs. Brad wakes up and tells me she had a really sad dream. (Names are left out to make it simpler.)

"It was in our old apartment, but I wasn't married to you, I was married to (a former co-worker)," she says. "It was so sad, because I knew we were supposed to be married, but we weren't – and you were acting like you didn't care. Then (a high school or college friend) was my neighbor and she was married to (someone who we attended church with decades ago), but (our son) was their son.

"I had to get to work, but I knew that if I didn't say something to you about loving you, we could never marry. But I was already married. You kept talking about (a famous actor) and wouldn't change the subject. Finally, I asked if you loved me and you said that you had to go bowling.

"Then I started to cry, because I knew nothing could change. But we were supposed to be married. It was so sad."

Early in our marriage, I would ask follow-up questions in an attempt to help it make sense, but it couldn't make sense and really all that mattered was that Mrs. Brad was sad. I would tell her, "That was just a dream. We are still married," and she would say she knew, but would remain sad for much of the day.

While I wondered whether another lineup could help the Giants score more runs.

It still happens frequently. And we've been married three decades.

Finally, a month or so ago, I finally had a dream that I remembered. It was my chance to tell her!

"I dreamed that (our youngest son) got a haircut and I told him that I noticed it," I told her, concentrating to remember pertinent details and doing my best to weave a compelling, accurate tale. "Then, about 10 minutes later, I told him again that I noticed it. He said that I already told him."

Mrs. Brad looked at me.

"That's something that you would do in real life!" she said. "That's the kind of thing you do all the time."

It's true. My dream was a boring, everyday occurrence.

But I did remember it, so I should get credit for that.

Here's my takeaway: Mrs. Brad may have crazy, multiple-layer dreams while I have dreams about everyday things that could actually happen. Hers may be more dramatic, but consider this:

There is a much better chance that my dreams will actually come true.

I've got that going for me.

Brad Stanhope is a former Daily Republic editor. Reach him at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.