dream of dead soldiers

Last night, I dreamed of dead soldiers and their families. One in particular stands out. I dreamed of a helmet on a shelf. Inside the helmet was a toy water gun and something else that wasn't clear. The father was there and inconsolable. I woke up in a cold sweat. I hope this is not a preview of dreams to come. I'd like to dream of something other than death and destruction.

If we have a draft, I don't know what I'll do. I have a 16 year old and a 10 year old. I am particularly worried about the 16 year old. I think I will advise her to let them throw her in prison as a conscientious objector. Terrible, I know, but less evil than the alternative. Maybe if I knew the freaking BUllSHit twins were on their way to Iraq, I'd feel differently.

Hopefully, this insanity will be over by the time the 10 year old is old enough to be eligible.

I am off to Starbucks for a caffeine boost and to do my part to bolster the economy by paying an outrageous sum of money for a beverage.