Shortly before waking up this morning, I had the wackiest dream. It was sort of set in California. (We were there a few weeks ago.) I was talking to a girl who looked just like Kelly Osbourne, but wasn’t. She said that she knew Kelly Osbourne. Even in dreams, my rube-ish nature was slightly impressed by this (gross). The Osbourne house had a creek running beside it, and I thought, see, it’s okay to have a creek on your property, although they had this home built and decided where they wanted the creek. (Too much house hunting, perhaps?) At that moment, a small blurp of water washed over a rock in the creek, which began to flood. (It’s been raining here all week.)
Next scene. My husband tells me that he’s being adopted by his best friend’s parents. I said, “What??? You’re 41 years old! There must be some sort of tax break for someone in this!” (Too much financial wrangling with potential houses.) His parents were sitting together, not talking. No shit, they’ve been divorced for well over 20 years in real life. The hubby then goes on to tell me that he was almost adopted when he was a kid, but he had to fill out a lot of paperwork and checklists, so it didn’t go through.
The best part? When I asked him if he was changing his last name, he said, “yes.” In the dream, his new last name would be Wong. (I watch House Hunters all of the time on HGTV, and the hostess’ last name is Whang.) I then told him, “Well, I guess I’ll be going back to my maiden name, then.”
When I related this crazy dream to the hubby, he said, “No more Pop-Tarts for you before bed.” I’m positive this dream/brain purge had nothing to do with the 2 20 oz. raspberry vodka and Diet Coke concoctions I had prior to eating aforementioned Pop-Tarts.
