I dreamed about dad last night. In my dream, he was a football coach, walking around a high school, looking at the last tree on a playground, evaluating it as a use for a football field. I was sitting on a bench, and I lit into him and two others. If you take this grass away for football, where am I going to play?

You’d play football.

But where do all the kids that don’t want to play football going to play?

I got a look of “why wouldn’t you want to play football?” So I repeated. At this point, mom and Corey showed up, and he looked to them for help. They asked the same question. Deflated, he realized they too would be opposed to taking away the last field.

That’s where s woke up. Initially, I smiled on waking because I haven’t had a vivid dream in a while, and this one involved dad. But then a bit of melancholy crept in; this version of dad is wrong. He didn’t care about football, and he certainly wouldn’t be the type to take away general playground to do it. So at 4:30 am, I now wonder what the dream was supposed to be, and why my head went there.

But still, dad.. I smile. And I go back to sleep.