At a museum. "Celebreties" were gathering from the far corners of the museum, assembling on the main platform in the west wing for some function being held there. They were really juvenile celebreties, by the way: folks like Willy Wonka and Big Bird and the ABC's and 123's. Each one came from their own native environment, in a separate room of the museum.
Went outside, among my family. Intricate murals covered the entire inner courtyard, depicting lovely pieces of fruit inside very museum-like rooms inside imaginary windows pressed upon by imaginary hands. The hands had grotesque veins running across them, and unexplainable light strips across the middle, where the "window" was supposedly open.
In one window was a dancing baby. It was very thin, in a window not much larger than itself. At first I was worried that it might fall, but then realized that this was the gift shop part of the museum, and someone had put the dancing baby on the windowsill as a practical joke.
I saw my dad and told him about the celebreties, joked that the highest prime number was there, hiding among the 123's. It could hide itself by combining all the numbers that came before it, so that the "gap" before a prime was determined by the number of composite numbers less than the previous prime. He didn't understand because he was drunk.