I like to watch Arthur. No, not that Arthur starring Dudley Moore, but Arthur, the one starring Arthur Read, the aardvark. It's on here at 5pm when there is nothing else on the schedule that interests me as much. This fact in itself isn't so bad. However, after last week, I've started to wonder if I'm regressing back to childhood.

One of the episodes that I watched last week, which I believe I have seen before, involved Arthur, DW, and the pursuit of PANTS, or the acronym used to describe a good experiment. Arthur and Buster bought and ant farm for their experiment, but didn't realize they needed to get ants as well. They get their ants, but the ants go missing. I stepped out of the room while this happened, but I bet DW did it! Anyway, the family finds ants all over the house in odd places, and their very lenient parents give them one week to round them up before they hire an exterminator. I personally would have said, "Pack up! We have a man on the way!" So they try lots of different ways to lure the ants out. By accident they find that sugar water is the best way to get all of the ants rounded up, and there's your happy ending. But what about mine?

This was mine: It's the middle of the night, and I'm fast asleep. Suddenly I'm dreaming that I have ants crawling out of the corners of my pillows, and then they are covering me. Tons and tons of ants. I woke myself up screaming like a banshee. I was so convinced that I was covered in ants that I ran screaming into my bathroom trying to brush them off. Once I realized I was A)awake, B) screaming at the top of my lungs, and C) probably waking up and ticking off my neighbors, I felt like such an idiot. How old am I that an Arthur episode could give me a nightmare?

I went to bed feeling stupid and bad for most likely waking up my neighbors, and I vowed that I wouldn't dream about any more ants. So that's why I dreamed that I had black beans crawling out of the corners of my pillows and covering me. Sigh.