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I was outraged seeing a resident of the old building with a child in her lap steering in the tight underground parking lot, but what the hell, I thought, a few more robo-signatures or so and any liability issues are no longer my concern. But I suppose the practice is unavoidable, as I indulged my son during a dream last night with a drive down the freeway in a small open-top coupe. With him behind the wheel like that, we missed our intended exit and went with the next, which took us into unfamiliar rugged territory. Somehow the vehicle managed to climb the first of a few steps from there on, but the rest were impassable, and going back the way we came seemed out of the question, so we continued on foot. The ground was awkwardly uneven, and each platform was separated by an opening to a precarious drop below. (It was only just to another landing, but I didn’t trust him to stay put.) Xavier slipped between such a crack but I got him by the right sleeve. His shirt slipped away, but I took hold of his arm and pulled him up to safety. Woke up and he was passed out on his back beside me.

Tagged cars, climacophobia, family