Was it something I said?

While getting ready for the day, John recounted a disturbing dream he had woken up from during the night.

"I went to the Super Bowl. You weren't there and neither was Sprite, since you couldn't make it or something. I had gone with some other friends and we were seated in bleacher type stands watching our team. The game ended, I think, because I was on the phone with you telling you I was coming home, when I heard machine gun fire. We ducked and started to crawl so we wouldn't get hit. As we crawled, we saw 2 guys coming up the stands with guns and rifles and shooting. So, we kept crawling and I think I turned a corner since I got separated from everyone else and was just trying to get out. Then, I came to this clearing where I could look around and I saw bodies on the ground, and a line of guys who were hand-cuffed, sitting there waiting, but still holding guns. Then I woke up."

John looked a little distressed. "Man, I knew it was a dream, but it seemed so real."

I reached over and gave him a hug. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry you had a bad dream."

I released him and smiled. "Now, you KNOW it was a dream. Your team would NEVER make it to Super Bowl."

I'm still waiting for him to forgive me.