I dreamt that my son was born. We called him Alexander. I don't remember why. I remember that they were complications, not in the birth, but in the circumstances. We weren't in a hospital. I remember feeling my wife's belly with the skin stretched so tight I thought it would break. I was worried about my hands not being sanitory enough to hold the newborn. He fit in the palms of my hands. I remember feeling this immense love for him and it seemed that my presence seemed to grow around him as clothing over his naked wet body. I remember bringing him to his mother and our combined joy over him. I don't remember a lot else, but the emotions are still with me. (Although in real life I don't think I would name a kid Alexander. That name doesn't have any meaning for me right now.) (I also don't have a wife just yet. Applicants can email me at me@JonathanDow.com. Please leave your age, hobbies, and testimony. (If you don't know what I mean when I say testimony, I'm probably not interested. Sorry.))