I’m up to my eyeballs in grading final exams, but I’m stealing a few minutes for a lazy post.
I had a ProjectilePluralism-ish dream the other night. Before you read any further, be advised that this dream trafficks in multiple religious stereotypes.
I dreamed that I was with one of my Mormon brothers and his wife and their (fictional) four young children. We were visiting a mainline Protestant church whose congregation consisted of three people, all of them elderly. They seemed ambivalent about our presence–thrilled, on the one hand, by this sudden tripling of their numbers, but also annoyed by all these small kids tearing around the place.
They were getting ready for a potluck. My brother and his wife had brought green jello salad, of course.
One of the mainline Protestants, a retiree-aged man, approached me to make sure we felt welcome. In an effort to make small talk, he said, “I’ve noticed that in society these days, we’re seeing more . . . couples . . . like yourselves.”
I understood his confusion. “Oh, no,” I clarified, “we’re not polygamists.”
A look of enormous relief came over his face–like, he had been determined to be tolerant and accepting of this polyandrous family if he had to be, but thank God he didn’t need to after all.
In my dream, I didn’t clarify for him that if we had been Mormon polygamists, we would have been two women and a man, not two men and a woman. I also apparently didn’t feel the need to clarify that the man he thought was my husband was actually my brother. We’ll leave it to the Freudians to interpret that part.