Scot is mad at me this morning.  He  had a dream that he was driving my van and somehow it got stuck in reverse, was going in circles, and he could not get it to stop. I was sitting in the backseat for some reason and I was laughing at him.

Me:  Why are you mad at me?  This is not my fault at all.

Scot:  You were making smart remarks and laughing at me.  You would not help me.

Me:   While this is all something I would totally do, I did not do it and it is all in your head.

Scot:  And the van had 26 gears and I couldn’t find neutral.

Me:  Again, not my fault.

Scot:  I forgive you

Me:  Please don’t

Scot:  I think I have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder now.

Me: You definitely have some sort of disorder.