Iscream

We were all snuggled up in our beds asleep when suddenly the husband and I heard the little man scream from his room.

It wasn't the normal I just woke up and want mommy or daddy yell, it was a gut-wrenching, sobbing, something is very wrong scream.

My husband jumped out of bed and ran down the hall to see what was wrong. The little man was in his bed, sobbing. He was so upset he could barely catch his breath.

"What's wrong buddy?" my husband asked as he reached down to pick the little man up.

The little man was so upset we could barely make out the words.

Finally, the little man calmed down enough that he could tell daddy what was wrong.

He had a bad dream.

"Oh, buddy," my husband said. "Did you see a monster?"

"No," the little man whimpered.

"What was it then? What was so scary?" my husband asked.

The little man quietly began his story. His dream was vivid and terrifying.

"The ice cweeeam truck," he stammered out, his face still red with tears. "It wouldn't stop. It just kept dwiving away. And I wanted it to stop so I could get an ice cweeeam."

And with that, my husband gave the little man a hug and snuggled him back into bed.

"You dream about eating a great big ice cream cone," he said. "A really, really big one."

A few seconds later the little man was snoring away once more.

No doubt dreaming of gigantic ice cream cones.