Regular readers of this blog will have worked out that, more often than not, the related dreams of a child are far more intriguing than anything that might spring from my creaking imagination.
First, give a child a pair of safe scissors, some glue, a box of assorted sweet wrappers, and some creased remnants of foil. Look on, with ears pinned back, and enjoy.
Before embarking on her little creative flight of fancy, Speckly Woo and I had a conversation about dreams.
"What did you dream about, last night, Grandad?"
"Don't you remember, Grandad?"
I'm rescued by her impatience. She's desperate to tell me all about her own dream.
"I dreamt about a fairy in a garden. She had yellow hair, and she was trying to catch a blue butterfly. And there was a big flower in the garden."
"That sounds like a lovely dream, what colour was the flower?"
"It had gold petals and a pink middle. You'll see it in a minute, when I've cut it out and glued it."
So, I sat back and watched her fairy emerge, next to a huge golden flower with a pink centre, and dark green leaves.
Fluttering, just out of the fairy's reach, was a blue butterfly. And although you may be thinking it looks a little like a pair of blue underpants that have blown off the clothes line, I assure it most definitely is a blue butterfly. Speckly Woo told me so.