Leggo My Eggo...And Eggs...And Pudding

I've been dreaming about food lately. It must just be the preggo brain, because I'm not really overly hungry during the day or anything, so it's a little weird to be so focused on it at night. Actually, I suppose the focus is more that someone takes the food from me, and I get all mad about it. I've had two dreams in a row with this theme, and while I don't normally attach meaning to dreams, (I consider dreams to be the brain's way of going, "Testing, testing, is this thing on?") two in a row being so similar makes me wonder if they're connected somehow.

The first one happened the night before last when I dreamed that my Dad made me fried eggs and toast. (Note: My Dad makes the BEST fried eggs ever. He manages to get them all crispy and buttery on the edges without overcooking the yolk so it's still runny enough to sop up with toast. I've never been able to recreate it myself. I usually end up breaking the yolk during the all important flip and ending up with semi-charred scrambled eggs instead. But I digress. Let's just say, Dad's fried eggs? Awesome). Anyway. In my dream, Dad had made me some fried eggs and toast, and I was happily scarfing them down when my Mom came in and took a bite. And then another. And then another! Annnnnd she was eating the absolute tastiest part, which is the egg yolk on the toast! And in my dream, I got crazy mad. RAGING mad. How dare she eat my eggs and toast! Dad made them for me! I haven't had fried eggs in forever! I even woke up mad. (And apparently mumbled indignantly yet incoherently at Tony about it while he got dressed for work. Mumble mumble MY EGGS! mutter PERFECT YOLK! mumble TOAST! to which he replied, "Yes dear. Go back to sleep, dear" like he always does). When I really woke up later, I thought I might just be craving eggs, but nope. Wouldn't have said no to them if Dad was fixing them, but didn't feel like actually trying to attempt them myself.

Last night's dream was about us moving into a new house. Mom, Dad, my sister, me...we had moved into a new house together that was really quite lovely. In the process of the move, we had taken everything out of the kitchen pantry and piled it on the roof of an old minivan we used to have when I was a kid. I knew it was going to rain soon and we needed to 1) mow the lawn and 2) get the pantry items off the van roof before it rained, but instead of removing the items, I just put the gas can for the mower in the van and drove off, pantry items riding topside. Of course some of them fell off before I could get out of the neighborhood, so I stopped the van to go back and get them. But before I could reach them in the street, some guy comes running out of his house and scoops them up! And I was like, "Hey! That's my instant pudding! Come back here!" And I chase him into his house. Again with the all-encompassing food related rage. Dude has my jello pudding! And some cans of tuna! And my gas can! (Not exactly a food, but still...) And his family is sitting in the living room watching me chase this guy around and around his kitchen, screaming about how I want my groceries back. Then I wake up.

I'm not sure why I get so mad in these dreams. In reality, I'm a pretty non-confrontational person. I rarely ever get mad. Plus, I would not mind if Mom ate my eggs and toast (technically, they were her eggs in the first place). She buys enough of my meals when we go out anyway so if anything, I'm mooching off her, not the other way around. And instant pudding costs like, what? 40 cents a box? And I don't even like tuna! So I really don't think it's about the food. But I'm at a loss as to anything else that the food represents. If any of you out there feel like playing amateur dream analyst, feel free to take a shot at it. I'm curious to hear if I'm missing something obvious.

In the mean time, it might just be safer for you to get your own plate.