It's my dad's 50th birthday and I've pulled out all the stops throwing a huge bash. He's not really cooperating with much of what i've planned and he is even refusing to eat the decadent chocolate cake I baked for him myself. And so I spend the remainder of the party (of which the details are blurry) sneaking around and repeatedly ambushing my dad with a syringe full of the chocolate cake trying to inject it into his bloodstream. I never succeeded. And I woke up.
The same night of this dream I was woken by an asleep husband yanking on my arm. After pulling my arm free before he tore it from its socket, he then sat up, reached over and grabbed the comforter off of me and rolled himself up in it. Never waking up. Evidently he was having a rough night, too.
And now I must go. Kenny's at a meeting which gives me just enough time to whip up something sweet. I'm a glutton for punishment I guess. But as long as I don't share with Kenny then at least I don't have to worry about him dismembering me during the night.