The dream started with my meeting someone with whom I had gone to high school, a popular girl. We were happy to see each other and exchanged things about what we were doing and planning to do. It seems I was living in the equivalent of Victory Village, rather she was, for I was in her one-room house and she was telling me how she had fixed it up. (No, it was my place, for she was commenting on how the drapes were too long.) From here it went, I believe, into that my husband and I weren't married, but were living together in a one-room sort of place like this -- it was his place, but I had moved in with him. My mother had been up once and caused a terrible scene, and I was fixing up a place under my bed where I could hide if she came back again when I was there. We were making love one night when I heard her cough and knew she was coming. My husband got out of bed and got some clothes on, but I stayed in bed. I didn't hide as I had previously planned. It was not my mother, but my daddy and my brother. They came in and tried to act as if they thought everything was all right and I was doing a quite natural thing, but it was obvious that they, especially daddy, were very upset. As we talked, I was slipping into my pj's under the cover. All of a sudden daddy got up and went outside and started vomiting. I knew it was because he was upset, but it made me mad that, if he was that upset, he should come and pretend that he wasn't. Our tiny house was now a VW bus fixed up, and he opened the door and vomited into the back of it. I got very mad and shouted at him, and he couldn't really understand what I was talking about, as if he didn't understand what he was doing and why. My sister-in-law and brother were both there now, and they all were preparing to leave. My sister-in-law and brother avoided my eyes as if they thought I had done something awful. Through this whole dream there was very little of this overwhelming guilt feeling that I used to have in connection with all of this. What I was doing seemed so right and their reactions seemed so far removed from what they should be, that I could not really feel that I was doing something wrong. The only real emotion I felt was anger at daddy, and then I felt that this was wrong because he didn't really know what he was doing.