(Several interruptions—in real life, not in the dream. The psychologist turned up unexpectedly to see a patient in the consulting room she shares with Alicia; the dog followed her in, as did her son—the psychologist’s son, I mean—who she’d brought along for Ignacio to entertain. Ignacio tried to escape, but it was too late, and now he’s entertaining him. Then the architect arrived, which meant the dog came in again, after all my efforts to get him back outside. The architect had some new plans and quotes with her for the house we’ve just bought. Things are getting more complicated by the day.)

They were my bicycles, and I was upset that my parents were selling them.

November 23

No stone is left unturned in this house when it comes to my entertainment or amusement (whether I like it or not). For example, today Alicia thought she’d soak one of Juan Ignacio’s overalls in a bucket of soapy water. She left the bucket in the kitchen, under the window, between some chairs and the electric stove. A few hours later, when I was in the kitchen having a cup of coffee and trying to read a chapter of my detective novel, Ignacio came over for a chat (he does that a lot these days, generally to discuss matters relating somehow or other to sex). He sat sideways on one of the chairs in his casual, nonchalant way, resting one foot on the rim of the bucket. He has a tendency to fidget restlessly when he’s speaking, and with one of his movements his foot slipped off the rim of the bucket and into the water, knocking the whole thing over. I still can’t understand how, if Ignacio then stood up and his leg was more or less vertical, or diagonal at any rate, the bucket could have ended up completely overturned with Juan Ignacio’s leg still inside it. He couldn’t extract his leg any more than he could set the bucket upright, and so he simply watched, transfixed, as the bucket’s entire contents emptied spectacularly onto the floor. The whole kitchen was flooding, and I hastily retreated to a strategic location with my book, my reading glasses, and my cup of coffee; in other words, I went into my study. When Alicia came back, and after her fury and despair had subsided, another scene played out that was even more comical than the last. As Alicia set to work drying the floor, Ignacio and I leaned comfortably in the kitchen doorway, watching her exertions with great interest. It didn’t occur to us that we were doing anything wrong until Alicia shot us a murderous glance, and then the whole scene suddenly struck me as hilarious. After moving prudently out of her reach, I began roaring with laughter.

November 25