Because it is so

This was my dream this morning:
As the sun rises, Timothy Gooding, an average 12 year old boy, with short black hair, blue eyes, and a curiosity which always begged to be filled, leaves the world of dreams to enter the world of reality. He sits up in bed and looks at his wristwatch, a present from his father, who passed away when Timothy was 6, which Timothy has never taken off.

The time is 6:15 AM.

Timothy lies down and stretches out from his fingers to his toes, and then proceeds to jump out of bed. He creeps into his mother's and his sister's rooms to see if they are awake yet, to find out that his mother is still asleep while his sister, Emily, in her pink cake pajamas, is sitting on the floor playing with her dolls. Emily is 6 years old, but can be easily confused with an 8 year old, because of her speech and the fact that is bigger than most 6 year olds. She has light brown curls, and hazel eyes which sparkle at any new, interesting discovery.

She looks up at Timothy and comments, "I'm giving Anabelle a haircut."

"Very well," Timothy replies.

"Timmy," she asks, "Have you seen Elizabeth anywhere?"

"No, I haven't. You probably left her at Aunt Rosenbaum's house when we were there Monday."

"Can we go check?"

Aunt Rosenbaum's house was a block away.

"No, it's too early. She's probably not even awake yet."

"But I want my Elizabeth!" Emily screams, and begins to sob.

It is Emily's scream which wakes up Marvella, Timothy and Emily's mother. Emily is quite big for a 6 year old, and has a voice to match. A creaking of the bed in the adjacent room can be heard, indicating that whoever was sleeping on it isn't doing so any longer. Then come footsteps, until Marvella walks into Emily's room, half-awake, and with her hair all over the place.

"What in the world is going on, and why are you up so early?" Marvella sleepily inquires, over the sound of Emily's crying.

"Emily lost one of her dolls," Timothy responded, trying carefully not to answer the second question.

"Oh, deary-dear," Marvella said, looking at Emily with a sense of pity, "we'll find your doll. Timothy, go back to bed!"

Marvella picks up Emily and rocks her to and fro, until Emily stops crying. As Marvella is leaving the room with Emily and is walking downstairs, a grin can be seen on Emily's face as she sends a wink to Timothy, knowing that she got her "downstairs ticket," while her brother - not quite.

Ah, girls - master manipulators.

At this point I woke up, to find that it was only a dream.

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