The Daddy Diaries. Chapter 21. Daydreams.
Like any normal father of a newborn child, I spend most of my waking hours daydreaming about when Lev is old enough to be my buddy and we both get matching cowboy outfits and run around the house with broomsticks pretending to be in the Wild West.
Of course, I don't do this all the time. Sometimes I also daydream about us buying WW2 army fatigues from a military supply shop and playing war games, except then I daydream about our heated arguments since neither one of us wants to play Tom Hanks.
The other night I was half asleep and having the same old fantasy about when Lev is older and we both wear matching jump suits and sweatbands around our hair and pretend to be hosts of an awesome local cable television access program where we discuss lesser known hair bands of the 80s.
A clashing din awoke me from my reverie. It wasn't Lev crying or pooping noisily (though he was also doing that). I was awakened by the sound of Michelle next to me. I could hear the sound of her daydream leaking out of her head.
In Michelle's fantasy, she and Lev are doing a choreographed jazz dance routine in matching mauve leg warmers to the soundtrack from "Flashdance," and both of them are mouthing the words, "what a feeling," as they twirl around in an old abandoned factory, which happens to have a ballet floor installed in it.
Michelle has another daydream where she and Lev are sitting side by side in a much nicer apartment and both have matching laptops on which they are pinning cute artisanal recipes on their Pinterest page. At one point, he turns to her with a knowing and says, "Oh you."
Lev also has a fantasy. Just one: that he is one of those dispensers at the frozen yogurt store.
Only in this store, there's only one flavor.
Fudge.
PS Happy Halloween.