I am seated on the right end of a couch. I feel tired. I notice a cobweb right in front of me with two spiders on it, which gives me the creeps. I inch my way over to the left side and start to get up. I say something and a man seated at a table just to the left is furious and angry with me. He tirades on about how filthy and lazy I am. A woman sits to his left at the table, and I look first at the man and then at the woman in shock at this tremendous outburst. I turn to my "father" also at the table and I say, "Does he mean I don't bathe often enough and I stink, or does he mean I don't change my clothes often enough?" My "father," who is a stocky short man with thick dark hair and tired bags under his eyes, gets up and walks to me and kneels in front of me. (He looks like an older, tired Deepak Chopra.) He says, "I love being around you best when you..." and he gestures with his hand like he is wiping away tears. I'm not crying, but I do feel put upon and sad. Emotional, at any rate. Then he puts his head on my knees, rather than in my lap, and I have to reach a long ways to smoothe and caress his hair, which I do. I say, "I just don't understand." He says, "Ira Nah-nah," and looks at me knowingly, like I should get it.