Dreams of Beans

So about three years ago a friend gave me a book to help understand the meaning of my vivid dreams. I consulted it quite a bit and realized that it was a load of crap. I mean, having a dirty dream involving sex on a dining room table does not mean fear and trouble at home. Come on. It means that in my dream state I am to lazy to make it to the bed for sex. Anyway, my dreams have become more or less mundane. I will use last night as an example.

Last night my dream was me tagging along with Chloe on her most hated chore, grocery shopping.

A bit of background. Chloe and I have a fantastic arrangement. I cook dinner nearly every weeknight and do a majority of the grocery shopping. In return, she manages the laundry and ironing, which on my list of many things is one above dying in an inferno. I love cooking and think I am okay at it. Chloe does not complain about what I make so I think I’m doing okay. I like food a lot actually. One could say I am a foodie but I would not like that loudmouth person.

Last night I was fixated on getting some fish. Apparently I decided we were eating more than our share of chicken and we were obligated to switch to fish. At the store I got a great deal on “Mediterranean Cod,” for $2.50 a pound. Immediately after my fish find I ran up to Chloe to show her and she looked all but interested in my thrifty purchase. I also happened upon HUGE haricot vert (green beans y’all) for 60 cents a pound. Again Chloe was not very amazed. The dream went on like that forever, with more and more deals. What has happened to me? Age, I tell ya!