last night, I had a dream.

Every night of my new pregnant life I do three things; scurry to the restroom, switch sides I'm slumbering on, and dream wild and crazy dreams. Many nights there is a fourth element to my nocturnal existence. You may know it by the acronym PBJ. That's right, the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Many a midnight I wake up desperately hungry. It's like a 3 alarm fire of urgency. I run upstairs, make a PB with or without the J, run downstairs, scarf, and fall back into a pregnant coma. 

Last night was one of those fateful, hungry nights. I could hardly get the peanut butter onto the bread fast enough. Then came a slathering of raspberry jam.  I was eating like a fat kid sneaking candy. All was well until it came time to clean up. Peanut butter and bread back in the pantry, dishes in the dishwasher, and then jam... Where was the jam lid? I looked in the dishwasher, in the sink, in the pantry, on the floor. The kitchen was pristine. WHERE WAS THE JAR's LID?? I gave up and went to bed.

Cut to this morning when PG came into the room smirking. Here's our dialogue...

PG: "I have a question for you... when was the last time you made a sandwich?"

guiltily I responded "1 am last night..."

PG: "Were you missing anything?"

AG: "Where was the jelly lid?!!"

{laughter}

PG: "In the peanut butter jar."

IN THE PEANUT BUTTER JAR MY FRIENDS, IN THE PEANUT BUTTER JAR! I dropped the jelly lid into the peanut butter jar with my own hands.  It makes perfect sense... I'm losing my marbles.