Baby by the sea

I dreamed I had been entrusted with the care of a newborn baby. Who the parents were was a mystery; they could have been sea turtles for all I knew. The baby had been left in the sand near a pier, in a shallow hole that resembled a nest. 

Hannelore couldn't believe that someone would leave a baby in my care, much less abandon one in the sand, and she demanded that I take her to it.

"She is sleeping right now, but I'll show you," I told her. 

We walked from the end of the pier where we'd been doing some whale watching. The orcas were migrating, and this was a threat to babies who had been placed in nests too close to the water. 

"Don't worry. They can't get at her up here," I said as we approached the sand shelter.

It wasn't much more than a small indentation in the sand, but it was enough to keep the baby from being spotted by land and sea predators alike. It also made it hard for the mother to spot, which was possibly why this one appeared to be abandoned. I didn't know the whereabouts of this particular baby's mother, but I assumed she was out foraging for food, which didn't automatically imply abuse or neglect. 

In one of those subtle dream transitions, the baby somehow morphed into a fully grown Sharon, bedridden and incapacitated, lying naked in the cool sand. Hannelore was satisfied that I had things under control and left me to attend to Sharon's needs.

"Let's see what you've got going on here," I said, rolling her on her side to check her bottom.

At this point, the beach scene had become our familiar bedroom, and the sand had become a bed. In the process of rolling her on her side, I accidentally rolled her right off of the bed and onto the floor. 

"That's so typical of you," Sharon scolded me. "Never careful. Now you have to try to get me back up on the bed."

I was used to this sort of thing, and solving logistical physics problems was my strong suit. Whether swing dancing or rescuing his beloved from a tumble onto the floor from the bed, a 150lb man with a 300lb wife has to find workarounds.  I managed to hoist her, one limb at a time, using the division of weight method and sheer determination, and she was back on the bed in seconds.

"Oh-oh. There's a poop that wants to come out," I said cheerily, as if noting the first rosebud of spring.

Her backside had a rather unique opening, more like a manta ray's mouth than your typical butthole. There was a flap of some kind, and beneath it, the aperture was just starting to crown, revealing a baby seal sized turd. This kind of thing was also old hat for me, so I took my position and waited for the thing to come out on its own timetable.

Sharon laughed with me. We'd been through all of this before, and it wasn't the big deal that it had been back in the days when it was all new to us. I had that feeling one gets when you find that the test you've been diligently studying for is just a review of material that you have known for years. 

That's about it. Just a day by the sea, my baby and me. I'm sure Sharon would have enjoyed the change of scenery, even if she had to exchange her comfy bed for a sandy sea turtle nest. We both always loved our trips to the beach.