One of the classics.
Now that I’ve been trying to remember my dreams, I’ve actually had less success in doing so. I’ve been remembering tidbits — things like a minivan filled with mandarin oranges in water, or having to go to the bathroom really bad at school and peeing into a bucket of flour I kept in the back room. But I’ve been losing the overall plots pretty quickly cuz I get up and immediately start thinking about what I’m doing at school that day.
So here’s one of the all-time best.
I’m sitting at a picnic table across from a monk. He’s dressed in one of those brown Gregorian robes and he’s got the hood up, obscuring his face from view. I’m reading to him, and it becomes evident that, in fact, I’m tutoring him. Every once in a while, he’ll hold up a hand and repeat a word he doesn’t know the meaning of and I’ll explain it to him.
He’s slightly retarded, and he has a lisp.
So there I am, reading some book out loud, and I come across the word “cahoots,” which the monk doesn’t know. So he holds up his hand, and says, “Cahoot-th-s?” He pauses, lifts the hood from his face and says again, “Cahoot-th-s?”
And I’m a little stunned because I don’t fully know what cahoots means. So I say nothing.
And that’s it. I wake up, and I start laughing.