I'm talking to my father. I put out 2 cigs that are burning in an ashtray. I see my mother smoking. I ask my father, "How can that be?" He says, "Oh, once in awhile, she'll smoke one." I am reading a book and in the book is a story of the Sanders family. It talks about dreams we have. I am confused to find such personal stuff printed. "How did they know?" Dad is explaining it. I get a sense of understanding that I've made too big a deal about it; I've made it too mysterious. It's pretty matter-of-fact.