Last night I had pizza.
And, yup, you guessed it.... last night I had a bizarre dream.
I won’t bore you with the details (well, at least not the LOOONG version that I bored Hubby with this morning), but we got invaded by aliens, my mom got P’dO - FYI, that’s my shorthand for pissed off…everyone says PO’d, but NOBODY actually gets “piss offed” so it just doesn’t make sense to say PO’d. Anyhoo, I digress. So, my mom got P’dO because I hadn’t checked in with her (uh, sorry mom, I was trying not to get killed by the 10-foot alien!), Hubby turned out to BE one of the aliens shortly after he turned into Matt LeBlanc (but, bless his heart, even though he was one of them, he still loved me enough to try and save my life). Then I got drunk and hatched a plan with Taylor Swift to escape, go meet up with my parents, sis, BIL and niece and nephew and live in the woods in tents.
But, we got caught trying to escape town. And that’s when I woke up.
I have a theory that the reason Mini wasn’t present in this dream is because the 10-foot alien is symbolic of the temper tantrum monster that has invaded my house for the past three days.
Or maybe it was just the pizza.