A dream about my prodigal son:
I asked his father to take him some food. I knew he hadn't eaten in a long time so I suggested and prepared white rice with chicken broth - very easy to digest. When my husband came back, he said our son didn't eat the food. I asked him how he looked. I asked twice how he looked. He said he looked fine. I remembered a spirit of anorexia I once had, even though I wasn't anorexic (it manifested itself a different way), and ran to him to cast the same spirit out of him. But when I got to his door, there were two large, muscular, sweaty men blocking the door. One of them had the face of my younger son.