From my dream journal a while ago….

Last night, I dreamed that I bought a peacock at Walmart. You can buy everything there, after all. Why should live peacocks be an exception?

Anyhoo… I bought a very snuggly peacock. I took him everywhere—to visit a friend in the hospital, to Gatlinburg, and finally to Hardees  (a fast-food hamburger place here in the US). Who knew peacocks love hamburgers!?

At the restaurant, the woman at the counter asked about my peacock. “What’s his name?”

Being cheeky, I responded, “How do you know he’s a boy?”

Her eyes narrowed. “All peacocks are boys. Duh.”

God, she made me feel so stupid. (I’d like to point that my anxiety even attacks me in my peacock dreams!)

I woke up and first thing this morning, I Googled “Are all peacocks male?”

Holy shit. All peacocks are male.

Sure, this is probably some random fact I’ve learned over the years that my subconscious unearthed last night, but it eerily felt like I’d been schooled in peafowl in my sleep.

For the record:

Peacocks = Male
Peahens = Female
Together = Peafowl

So when you see a peacock pop up in a book some day, you’ll know where HE came from.

My peacock’s name was Charley, by the way. Appropriate, since he’s a boy.