I always have odd dreams. But since I've been reading Jasper Fforde,my mental nocturnal meanderings have taken a deeply strange turn. Bears in cars, possessed bakery items, and me telling Zoely (blessed with ankle length tresses ~ walking down the middle of Main Street) that she is really Lady Godiva. Last month when I re-read all the Harry Potter's in preparation for The Deathly Hallows, my dreams were filled with Death Eaters and magic. Why can't I have a good old sex dream. With oh, say....Viggo, or Johnny, or Spike from Buffy, or even the S.O?
On a side note, I just told The Minion that if he ran and launched himself at the couch One. More. Time., I was going to nail his feet to the floor. It felt empoweringly Evil-Mom like to say, but I don't think he believed me, dammit.