My brain on crack

I had a dream in which I was a Peter Pan-like character, working two aid two children (brothers?) in their fight against the unfair life situation into which the adult world had put them. We had subdued and escaped their unkind guardians. We had stolen the fantastic houseboat that belonged to them as a home that would give us freedom and the ability to evade the clutches of adults until the older brother became eighteen and legally allowed freedom. We were on the verge of escaping the Feds who were trying to stop all this and put the kids back into the hands of the Guardians or a foster home or whatever. The Feds had planted some money with some kind of tracking system on it, a bait which we’d picked up, but we were counting the money we’d amassed for buying necessities and keeping ourselves happily independent of adults and could afford not to use it. We had also successfully captured and handcuffed the Fed trying to catch us, and he told us about the tracking numbers on the money we’d taken, gloating about it. I sorted through the money, calm and casual because we were going to leave him on the dock and flee safely. Some of the money was real, some was fake, and some was coupons.
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