Last night, Katie and I decided it was having your own baby orangutan. That's The Dream.
More specifically, The Dream is getting your own baby orangutan through some sort of bizarre circumstances that justify it (kind of how it makes it okay to have a dog in a tiny NY apartment if said canine is from a shelter).
Like, for example, a baby orangutan has been abandoned in the wild -- its chances of survival slim -- and every single ecological and zoological agency in the entire world is cash-strapped with its hands full.
They simply don't have room for one more baby orangutan. Then you get The Call. Boom: your very own baby orangutan.
The origin of The Dream was actually the origin of Man. We were watching a BBC nature program called Food For Thought, which parallels the steps of human evolution with species still alive today.
That's where The Dream came from. Then, just as quickly as The Dream was given to us, it was jerked away as we stared at violent images of chimpanzees hunting and eating rhesus monkeys.
"I don't want a baby orangutan anymore," Katie said. I was speechless. And neither of us will ever live or want to live The Dream.
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