a bit Freudian

I had the strangest dream last night that Little Scotty was 3 years old again and I was taking him grocery shopping. He was the cutest baby version of Little Scotty, screaming with glee when I offered him some Jello and chasing me down the supermarket aisle with a stalk of celery. [He went through a sword phase, which I somehow reinterpreted in my dream as a stalk of celery.]

What do I get from this dream? My ridiculous baby phase is definitely not over.