"(Something in Spanish)...It's the apparatus...it's named Mousey Doom...it's for programs, for Tom...yeah! Go!"
From the sounds he was making just before this, it was clear he was having some kind of nightmare, so I was making soothing sounds and stroking his hair. Suddenly, he rolled over and grabbed on to me.
"Ahh! No! Don't go!"
"I'm here, don't worry, I won't leave you."
"Not you, the potatoes."
"...We'll get new potatoes, it's okay."
"I'm hungry. Want cereal." And then he started to nom on my face.
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