...need to cut down on the before-bed snacking.

I'm at a desk. Generic office. Generic office drones milling about me.

Several people asked if it's gone yet.

"What?"

"The container."

"What container?"

"The evil container...Container 1660720. Why haven't you gotten rid of it!?"
they shriek as they run from my desk in fear.

3am. In the middle of the dream I kind of wake up to see BooBoo's face
above mine as she pins me under the blanket. My two-year old daughter has
crawled off her bed and onto ours.

"1660720 Da-da!" my brain hears her say. That can't be right. I sink
back into the dream...

It's now a hotel conference room, you know the kind: chandeliers and anonymous hotel staff filling glasses of icewater, secretly pissed that there's no tips coming from this group of sullen business people.

The container sits in a corner of the room...

"Ray fucked up! So now we've got to deal with this." The generic old man boss points at a screen. I'm not wearing any glasses and appear to be shackled to the chair. 'This' appears to be a freeze-frame of a demon image from Raiders of the Lost Ark (you know, where the flying angels turn into demons and melt the Nazis' faces...)

"Options?"

"Let's feed Ray to it and maybe it'll leave us alone."

"Good plan. Anyone else?"

Silence.

"OK. Do it."

Hands, lifting my chair. Taking me over to the container, which is, in fact a dumpster. The top lid swings open by its own volition. Growls are coming from inside...

I am pitched into the blackness and am pinned and cannot move. Hot breath on my forehead as the unseen monster looms over my face. The monster licks me with an unspeakably wet tongue!

"DADA!" screams my two-year old as I awaken.

"Boo-Boo is MILKY MONSTER! RAAAAARRRRRHHHHHH!"

this last bit screamed into my face. I can't move as I'm pinned by the blankets. Boo-Boo has invited our 85lb Doberman-Shepherd Ruby-Tuesday up onto the bed beside her, effectively locking me down under the covers. Guess who the unspeakably wet tongue belongs to? I glance at the clock: 4:10am.

The Milky Monster stops for a moment and considers.

"DADA?"

"Yes, Boo-Boo?"

"DIAPER FULL! DIAPER FULL!"

And dear God it was...Why couldn't I go back to my nice comfy nightmare?