Mess Projectile Vomiting Dream 22-08-22

This dream follows on from a whole series of dreams which both the wife and I have had over the years concerning other people’s mess. The mess is often associated with named individuals. We often find ourselves surrounded my mess, chaos and disorder created by other people.

Here is this morning’s dream.

I am upstairs in a house; it is not my house. I am stood by a chest of drawers and there is a white baby changing mat on top of it. In my arms is a small child/baby. It starts to cough and brings up a little bit of vomit which lands on the baby changing mat. I know that this is the start. I hook the baby in my arms in a way that I can get my cupped hands together in front of its mouth. It proceeds to vomit liquid into my hands as I rush it to the bathroom sink. The vomit overflows my hands, and some lands on the landing carpet. Some runs down my arms and into my sleeves.

I get the baby into the bathroom and over the sink. Where it continues to vomit including now solid bits. The baby finishes and we are both covered in vomit. In the dream I know this to be metaphorical as well as vomit. I take the shower head and wash off the baby’s face and chin. I sit the baby down on the sink and wash out my sleeves. We are both very wet. I put the baby back over my right shoulder where it stays hanging without me holding it.

I look around the house it is very disorderly and in a shabby messy state. I go downstairs to get clean dry clothes for the baby and the mess continues. Toys are strewn everywhere and there is mess. P is there as is J {who is dead} and J who is alive. These are my relatives. In the dream I know that the mess is not only of their making others have had a significant hand in it. I say that I will see what I can salvage from the recycling.

At this the baby begins to vomit down my back. I sense that the baby does not want me to go. So, I explain to it that I am not going yet. I am simply going to check the recycling. The baby understands and stops vomiting.

The baby remains attached to my shoulder.

I go to the foot of the stairs and ask P and J {dead} if they want some gloves before we search in the recycling and if so, how many. P says she wants 2.  I go upstairs to the bathroom. There on the sink is a very large partially dried out turd and piece of wood {flotsam and jetsam}. I get six blue nitrile examination gloves out of the box thinking how come I am often having to clean up other people’s messes.

Dream ends.

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