My mom sent me the following email the other day:

I almost E-mailed you in the middle of the night. Woke up around
2:00 having had the sweetest dream of you. You were about kindergarten
age and so cute. Someone was trying to kidnap you and you managed to
escape. I can still see you running toward me.
Love, mom

Let me get this straight. Her “sweetest dream” was about me being abducted at age 4, and the vision that stayed with her is me fleeing in terror?

Nice. Love you too, Ma.