telophase | (no subject)

Woke up out of a dream wherein I was a human married to a Klingon poet, and raising his dead brother's kids. I remember three scenes: (1) picking up a piece of paper with a few rejected lines scribble on it in Klingon and asking my husband why they didn't work (I didn't read Klingon), (2) taking one of the kids to buy a birthday cake for our mutual shared birthday and telling him to pick out our cake and tell me why I should like it, (3) grocery shopping with the entire family, and seeing my father-in-law pick out a pot of color, as he explained to me it was for an upcoming festival during which Klingons paint their ridges in various colors.

Way more domestic than you usually think of Klingons. I don't really expect the pater familias of a Klingon clan to go grocery shopping.

Anyway, I'm finishing up my decadent French toast room-service breakfast and then I'll check out, go back to the con, and commence with coloring the commission (I didn't color last night because the ink has to dry for at least half an hour so as not to smear with repeated application of marker to it. :D)

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That's such an interesting dream! I love it when Klingons are domestic. It's adorable.

Maybe it's from their old hunter-gatherer heritage?

That's adorably cute.

I dunno. I think elder Klingons might be very domestic, as someone's got to teach the younger generation not to dishonor the grapefruit.

I think the cake had a picture of a Klingon culture hero of some sort on it. :D The kid liked it a lot.

That's the best dream ever!

For some reason I picture Klingons writing terrible haiku.

(I was going to try writing one, but all I got so far is "'uD'a' pup Sa'Hut", which is "lasers kick butt".)