Dreams of My Daughter

I always thought that dreaming was a nightly occurrence for everyone.  It wasn't until I was much older that I was informed not only do most people claim to not dream regularly, but those that do can rarely remember their dream upon waking.  I'm one of the curious few that dream every night and usually I have a great recollection of what was dreamt.  Some of the best ones I still remember even years later - the flying pants was one of my favorite, and of course the blackjack game dream that made me believe we were having twins the first time, even before the first ultrasounds.  Well, now that I'm in full dad mode a lot of my dreams are of my children, and it's not just their good behavior.  The other night I woke up in a huff around 3 AM.  Gina was nursing the baby and I demanded "What does 'Hannibal' start with?!"  She, totally confused, answered "H"?.  "That's right.  It starts with an 'H', not a 'G'!"  At this point she couldn't contain herself "What are you talking about!" she exploded with laughter.  You know those moments in life where you realize too late that you've injected yourself awkwardly into a situation?  Like showing up at the costume party in adult attire to find out it's a church function for children.  I suddenly realized I was awake and no longer in my dream so I had to sheepishly explain what was going on.  The girls have these blankets they sleep with that have their names embroidered on them.  I was dreaming that Genevieve was fighting over such a blanket with Hannibal, and I was trying to settle the fight as it was, in deed, Hannibal's blanket.  Makes sense, right?  Well then Gina is confused why I would be dreaming about Hannibal Lecter to which I had to explain I'm an even bigger dork then she might realize. .... I was dreaming about Hannibal of Carthage.  Well now I'm giving Gina a history lesson at 3AM trying to explain that Hannibal is the one who crossed the Alps with elephants to attack Rome and somehow this makes more sense then Hannibal Lecter.  She just stared at me blankly so I went back to sleep.  Anyway, this is my point - my daughter is confrontational and tough.  She's so tough that I'm now dreaming of her fighting with one of the greatest Generals in history over a stupid blanket. ... and she was clearly winning or I wouldn't have had to intervene and explain that "Hannibal" begins with "H". ... now that I've written this post, I can see why Gina looked at me like I'm nuts.