Last night I dreamed that my dad was chasing family members around with one of those dull training epees and whipping us with it. It really hurt, so I had to get a wooden spoon and start whapping him with it to make him stop. He didn't understand why we were so upset. Then I found out that I had a son I didn't know about. Who knows how that's possible? But his name was Jonothan, and mom introduced me to him, reminding me that I had been pregnant for the past 9 months, and TADA!
So I strapped him into my monster truck and took him to meet his father, who I assumed was my boyfriend. He ran a hot dog stand on the side of a freeway, just like the guy in that old 1950s cartoon. I took a detour first to my grandma's house. She had died, and these gangsters were using it for a meth lab. I ran over all of them. By this time, Jonothan had learned how to talk and was saying that he was scared. I replied that it's ok, because they were "bad guys."
Finally, I found Jake grilling dogs on the side of the road. He seemed surprisingly calm and even happy about having a son. That's when I started to suspect that this pregnancy was some sort of shady conspiracy put together by he and my mother. You know how those men get the baby fever... Of course, I woke up just a few seconds later.
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