I haven’t felt great for the past couple of days.
Body aches. Headache. No appetite. Basically existing under a blanket and occasionally wondering whether getting up for water was worth the effort.
Then today, I fell asleep.
And … my body decided it was time to fight whatever demon had taken up residence in it.
Because I had a fever dream.
Not just ANY fever dream.
The Backyardigans were moonwalking.
Yes.
THOSE Backyardigans.
Pablo. Uniqua. Tyrone. Tasha. Austin.
ALL FIVE OF THEM.
Moonwalking.
Together.
I have two adult children. Nobody in this house has watched The Backyardigans in about 136 years.
So WHERE did my brain even find this information?!
Was there a forgotten file buried somewhere in my subconscious labeled:
BACKYARDIGANS — SAVE FOR MEDICAL EMERGENCY
And I’m guessing my fever finally reached the appropriate security clearance.
I don’t remember the entire dream. I don’t know where they were going. I don’t know WHY moonwalking was the chosen method of transportation.
I just know there was choreography.
And I was front row for Backyardigans: The Michael Jackson Years.
Then I woke up.
DRENCHED.
Hair wet. Clothes wet. Sheets wet.
And strangely…
I felt better.
I actually got up, took a shower and — for the first time in almost two days — ate something.
Which leads me to the only medically reasonable conclusion:
The Backyardigans moonwalked my fever right out of my body.
Forget Tylenol.
Forget cold compresses.
What I needed was five animated children’s characters sliding backward across my subconscious.
And you know what?
I’m not questioning it.
My body had a plan.
My brain had a playlist.
And Pablo apparently had the moves.
Mine’s Broken.
And apparently when I have a fever, so is my subconscious.
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