Wonderland

Among the unusual things that we may think we know, some of them can't be taught. Dreaming is one of those.

There is no picture, not a single detail, about what a dream is like. We never know if babies have dreams. I didn't have the feeblest idea how to teach my angel daughter what a dream is like, until she woke up one afternoon asking for her aunt.

"Auntie Simmy, what?" I stared at my daughter, nonplussed

"Oh yes, we're having udon. Where is she?"

Until then, I had not been able to tell my daughter she'd had a dream, and how a dream looks like.

Bit by bit, she learned and told us her dreams in the morning. At one time, she described playing pirate game with teacher in the kindergarten. It was as if we knew her dream because her mum was next to her in the dream, as if we had lived together in her dream and she was surprised to hear that her mum asked about the details of her pirate game.

"What do you mean? Mum, you should know. You were there."

Not that Jasmine thought her dream is real, far from it. In fact, she knows that the dream is imagined. If there is one thing we can make up - and there is only one thing - it's her dream. Any dream, any wish.

My daughter just told her mum yesterday, "Goodnight, let's meet again tonight and play Lego in my dream. Remember."