Dreams are odd that way.
He informed me that he needed his xBox because the field trip was located at Yellowstone National Park and the class would be staying at a hotel so the science teacher had encouraged all the boys to bring their xBoxes to do a link-up from room to room so they could all play against each other in the hotel.
So we went to his buddy's house and he found an unlocked door, petted the dog to keep him quiet, tiptoed around the house to collect all the cords and controllers and got back in the car so I could get him to school to catch the school bus--at 5:45 on a Sunday morning.
From there, I dreamed that I went to the grocery store because, in my dream, my tiny little town of 1800 people had a big 24-hour grocery store. Sure. I dreamed that I wandered around the store to collect my few purchases. The checkstands and aisles were eerily empty, but the lights were bright and the cheesy muzak was playing over the sound system. I decided to treat myself to a donut as my prize for having accomplished so much before six o'clock, but the donut display in the bakery department was empty and clean. It was even too early for donuts.
When I was ready to check out, there was no one in sight and I had to flag down a man pushing a noisy floor waxing machine down the chips and cookies aisle. He called for a checker over the loudspeaker, a call that seemed to echo through the empty store. A grimy warehouse worker in need of a shave came trotting from the back and rang up my purchases with a surprising amount of cheerfulness.
I dreamed that I drove home as the sun came up and the sky was so pretty. Arriving home, I let the dogs out of the shop where they sleep, fed them breakfast, put away the groceries, and went back to bed at a quarter past six.
When I awoke to get ready for church, the boy was nowhere to be found. Apparently, it wasn't actually a dream.
Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction.