My truck was on fire, underneath. I looked over at dear hubby, who had been driving, as he calmly got out and left us alone. I quickly unloaded the baby and set her far away from the flames. I hurried to the back of the vehicle and started to unload a mountain of stuff. We had obviously been somewhere because there was a LOT of stuff. I moved quickly and efficiently, all the while keeping an eye on the baby, who was sitting and babbling happily. The flames took over more and more of the vehicle as I quickly unloaded the final box and stepped away from the now completely engulfed inferno. I picked up my daughter, only to realize that I had left my purse on the floor in the front and my daughter’s car seat and diaper bag on the floor in the middle. I felt the burning heat of shame flush on my cheeks as I thought of how angry dear hubby would be at my stupidity. My debit card, checkbook, social security cards, health insurance cards…I carry it all with me. I stood there and thought of how stupid I was…and then it dawned on me. If dear hubby had been helping me unload, like he should of been, I would have had a chance to grab those important things. He had disappeared just like he always does when there is work to be done.
I woke up with a throbbing headache. I desperately wish I could wake up from my life and find that it’s all been as bad a dream as this one.