“No, Sleeping Beauty.”

“How come you got up?”

“I was dreaming of food.  A hot dog, with chili and mustard and onions.  And just as I took a bite, I dropped it.”

“The hot dog probably took one look at you, with your hair standing on end and your red nose, and took off.”

“Shut up, Minnie.  I don’t feel so hot.”

“Why don’t you eat something?”

“I am baking salmon.  And I love salmon, but tonight, nothing sounds good, except for the hot dog.”

“You know, Wolf, you are a pain in the ass when you are sick.  Absolutely no fun.  And quite freakish looking.”

“Maybe I should join the circus as the freak woman with a fetish for hot dogs.”

“The circus would never hire you.  You would show up and scare the elephants, not to mention the little kids.”

“Hey!  When I feel better, I am going to beat you silly with baked salmon.”

“Why salmon and not a hot dog?”

“The salmon tastes blah tonight,  and I dropped my dog.”

“Maybe you should just go back to bed and ride out the storm.”

“No. I can’t right now. I am half scared to go back to sleep.”

“Now what?”

“I will have the recurring dream, drop my doggie and wake up in a sneezing frenzy.”

“Dreaming is your subconscious, trying to resolve the problems you are having.  What do you think these dreams mean?”

“I once had a dog who had a cold.  Such a nice doggie.  I had him neutered and he sneezed until his weenie fell off.  Now, I am sneezing and checked:  My weenie is gone too.”





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