Last night I dreamt that I was walking with my daughter in a park when a man jumped out from nowhere, right behind us. I whirled around to see him. He was holding up not a knife, but a picture. A big framed picture of I-can't-even-remember what.
But I got really, really mad and poked my index finger into his chest. I stuck my face up to his face and yelled, "Don't you EVER try to decorate my house like that again, you hear me? Never, ever decorate my house! Get outta here!"