I dream I am driving home; but no, I am not driving, it is my daughter. At a corner on the way, I observe building in progress. There is a skip parked on one side of the way, and on the other a pile of concrete blocks. "Stop the car," I say to my daughter, "there is not enough space to get through," but a worker on the site signals my daughter to keep coming. There, indeed, was not enough space, and both sides of the car were scraped. Having passed through the gap, my daughter pulled up and we got out of the car to view the damage. I saw a shyster standing nearby and he was encouraging people to make a claim, and asking them to sign up and get a pile of money. My passengers all crowded round him, eager to sign up. (Passengers? where did they come from?) "Well, who would they be claiming against," I wondered. It was not their car. Who could they be claiming against but me, as owner of the car. This is an insurance fraud: none of them were injured, but I guess they will all be claiming to suffer from whiplash. I must phone the police and insist that they come along and take details. I wake up.
This is a reflection of things happening in my life. My daughter, home from Australia, is about to buy a motor-car and will have to get insurance, of course. But more than that, it reflects a sort of a feeling that things are out of my control. Indeed, for the last week I and my wife have been duped by the family. All day Saturday is full of activities arranged for me and my wife by my daughter. When we arrived home on Saturday evening, the reason for this vague feeling of being out of control was revealed, when we faced a surprise birthday party for my wife! We had been manipulated out of the way, so that the party could get organised behind our backs. My dream was trying to express this out-of-my-hands feeling.