The show always brings out the weirdness

I teach a girl with a cognitive disability, and am skating the group ice show number with her. Earilier this week I had this dream:

We're waiting to go on at the show, and I look down and realize that Miss E is wearing speed skates (yellow speed skates, for the record). I know this can't be right, so we race back to the dressing room, which for some reason is in another building, to change her skates. Miss E thinks this is hilarious, and really fun, because we run so fast in our skates.

I put on her regular skates, but the laces keep getting messed up. Finally, they're on, and we're back at the show, where the last little girl in front of her has just gotten on the ice, so no one can tell that we were late. I look down, and realize that Miss E is only wearing one skate; the other one is in my hand.

There is no way we're going to get on the ice in time.

At this point I realize, "hey! this is a dream! I can just make this happen." So I think, let's pretend that I actually got Miss E's skates ON and we can skate. This happens, and we get out just as they're starting their circle, so we're just a little late. Then there's a place where apparently, in the dream choreography, everyone is supposed to get off the ice, pick up a toy, and get back on the ice. Only Miss E and I remember to do this. The rest of the girls are just milling around on the ice (NB: this was approximately what the rehearsal was like because they changed the choreography and it was 25 seven year-old girls completely at sea). Miss E thinks that she and I can go back to the room, get ALL the toys and save the day. So we go back to the room, but the toys aren't there, because my friend Rachel, who has nothing to do with the rink, (this made perfect sense in the dream), put them in a different room, and none of the regular coaches are around.

At this point, they stop the show and tell everyone in the show that we're going to have free time while they find the toys.

Then the dream morphed into Jason Bourne, which I had been watching the night before. Fortunately Miss E was not along for that part.

Miss E's psychologist mom tells me I'm feeling anxiety over the show, but am confident that Miss E and I, at least, know what we're doing. Theoretically.

UPDATE: The actual show went pretty much like the dream. Backstage, all the kids were making weird sounds, and stomping their feet, and waving their hands around. On ice, Miss E went to all the right places, even when the other skaters did not. I just had to laugh. How do you tell again which six-year-old has the disability?