I woke up on Saturday morning from a weird dream I was having. I was talking to my dad, who was picking me up at the airport. In the dream, I was seriously confused, and slightly frustrated, because all I wanted was to be able to express myself to him, having not seen him for so long. I understood what he was saying, but it wasn't normal. I heard what he was saying, it made sense, but something wasn't right..
As I woke up and rolled over, a smily grew across my face as I slowly realized something: I had been dreaming in Spanish. My dad was speaking to me, in my dream, IN SPANISH!
If it happens that one time, that's okay, because I never thought it would happen. So after Saturday I can finally say: I have dreamed in a foreign language.
And that makes me happy.
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