Thou shalt call his name...

Okay. I have to admit that I find this dream hysterical. It was way better than the dream where my nephew Miles had developmental problems and I woke up crying. (Don't worry; Miles is fine. He was just really short for a really long time! Soon after I had that dream, he finally surpassed the 2nd percentile for height.) So in this dream, Chuck and I just had twins, one boy and one girl. They were two days old, but had already started talking. TALKING. Being a new mom of twins is (I imagine and hope to never know) hard enough, but a new mom of twins who were talking...well, even harder. And unfortunately for me, these twins were sorely disappointed in my mothering skills and didn't hesitate to tell me. I reminded them that I was new at this, and I didn't expect them to be talking so soon. But alas, they didn't have much patience nor sympathy for me. Anyway, someone came over to our house to see the new twins, and I begin to introduce them. I showed them my daughter (whose name I can't remember now) but when I go to introduce my son, I completely blanked on his name. So I said, "Well, he's talking already. Why don't you ask him?" My guest proceded to do so, and my two-day-old chatting son replied, "You can call me Mr. Mullet." --End Scene-- MR MULLET??? What the...?! Where does my subconscious get this stuff?!