This morning, when Sarge came in from work, it woke me up, as it usually does. I ask him how his night was, as I usually do. Then I got annoyed.
"I was dreaming that Martha Stewart was teaching me how to make milk chocolate. We were just about to add the milk!"
"Oh," he says, "I guess that's better than the other day when I woke you from your dream about the neighbors suing you."
That didn't make me feel better. I really wanted Martha's recipe.