Last night I dreamed that I lived in a different house and had three children -- a girl with long, curly brown hair, and two dark-haired boys, all around six or seven years old.
In this dream, I got up in the morning and asked the kids what they wanted for breakfast, and the girl said "Nothing." One of the boys said "I want pizza" and I said "That's fine, because I'm already baking one," and pointed to the oven where it was baking away. The second boy said he wanted cheese, so I opened the fridge and started looking through a lot of half-empty cheese packets, but they were all expired. Finally I found a bag of shredded cheese, said "Here, see if you like this kind," and handed it to him to try.
While he was nibbling at cheese shreds, P appeared from another room, apparently just having woken up for the day. He said good morning and asked me what I was doing, and I said I was getting breakfast for the kids and did he want some too? As I said this, I opened the freezer and discovered that a big bag of frozen vegetables had burst open and spilled all over the inside. P said, "Wow, it's a mess in there, we'd better clean it out," so I started taking out boxes and packages and handing them to him, saying "Here, this can go, and this and this."
Then I reached back farther into the freezer, and instead of food, I started taking out crumpled-up bed sheets like a magician pulling out scarves. (They were all sheets I own in real life -- dark blue ones that go on my bed, and dusty lavender ones that go on G's bed.) I pulled out four or five arm-loads of frosty cold sheets, and then the alarm went off and I woke up.
There's got to be some sort of heavy-duty symbolism in there.