What's the plan?

Each morning I’ve got the blessing of waking Zoe up for school.  It’s one of my favorite things every day.  She wakes up easy and usually happy.

I creep into the room and she doesn’t stir.  Usually when I open the door I’ll get a little, “good morning mamma.”  This time…silence.

Once I get over my irrational fear that she has stopped breathing and my world crashes down on me, I got next to her, rubbed her back and heard:

So what’s your plan?

My plan?  I don’t have a plan.

You said you had a plan.  What is it?

I didn’t say that, but I’m thinking we’ll get up, lay on the couch, have some breakfast and get ready for school?

Okay, but that’s not the plan I thought you had!

Clearly she was mid-dream and in that dream I had a plan.  She can’t tell me what was happening that I needed to have a plan, so clearly it wasn’t something cool like we were superheroes fighting to save the universe. 

I guess I need to work on a plan for that!