Oh Fred, Where Art Thou?

This is the craziest thing ever. Sunday morning, right before I had to get up, I was having the weirdest dream. The part I will tell you is this: We were staying at somebody's house--started out to be Grandma's, but then you know how in dreams it turns into something else? Well it turned into someone else's house, but I'm not even sure whose. Anyway, I had to set the alarm clock. I did, and in the morning, it went off. I got up, went into the bathroom, which looked strangely like my own bathroom, and checked the clock in there. It was only 6:20.

Well we now have 11:00 church, so there's no reason in the world that I would need to be up at 6:20--no, not one--reason--that is. So I went back in to change the clock, and it was a Fred Flintstone clock. He was made out of plastic (I used to have a clown bank made out of the same plastic) and was about 18 inches high. The buttons to change the time were on the tops of his toes, and I was fiddling with them trying to change them when my own alarm rang! I was so mad--because I was certain it was only 6:20 a.m.--that I hit my snooze. I laid there for a few minutes thinking about Fred's toes. I have not been able to get him out of my mind! It was exactly like Fred Flintstone, club, clothes, bare feet, everything.

If you ever see a Fred Flintstone clock, please, please buy him for me! I need that clock!