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.