Dreaming

Last night I dreamed I was in the kitchen with Dave, and he was prodding my stomach with a fork. I said "Don't! That's not nice!" and he stopped, and went out of the room. Then he came back and did it again. Then I woke up with a horrendous stomach ache.

I could hear from Dave's breathing that he wasn't asleep, so I said "I have this awful pain," and he was full of sympathy, as he always is, and we discussed what might be the cause of the pain, and then I told him my dream.

"Was it a big fork?" he said.

I pictured a devil's fork and couldn't speak for the giggles. Then, when I calmed down, I said "It was a kitchen fork, fool. But you had a look of malice on your face when you were poking me."

"It's so unfair to hold me responsible for my behaviour in your dreams. And you know I'm not a malicious person. Scientific exploration is different. I could hold up my hand to prodding you with a fork to find out your core temperature."