My son, at home after a gap year, working again pre-university and burning the candle at both ends, isn't the earliest of risers. This morning, just up and with 15 minutes to go before his shift at work, he told me:
I dreamt you came into my room and said, 'Right — I've pulled a few strings and you're off to Iraq'. … I woke up.
I should think he did. (And totally bizarre: I have no military connections that could get him to Iraq … and — what a surprise — no desire to see him go there, either.)
