What if my dirty laundry started to walk and talk to me and said, "Don't worry, we'll clean ourselves!" And then started singing, "whistle while you work."
What if the crumbs on my living and dining room carpet (who the heck puts carpet in the dining room on purpose?) gathered together and made themselves an enormous, giant crumb and started coming at me like a monster from Scooby Doo? "maaawwwwww...," that's what the monster would say.
What if, suddenly, I had no electricity again? Ever.
What if I never learn how to made headcheese? Why am I obsessed with headcheese?
What if I cut my hair in my sleep? Like the guys from the Flock of Seagulls.
What if I could never pluck or shave again? Well, actually, I know the answer to that. I would look like a man in two months. With a unibrow. I work hard to not look like a man.
What if I stopped plucking and shaving and THEN woke up a haircut like the guys from Flock of Seagulls? (double shiver)
What if I looked in my closet one morning and all I had were polyester pant suits and platform shoes from the 70's? And then, when my closet opened, a disco light started to turn and the BeeGee's started to sing from some hidden speaker in the wall? And then, the only way I could walk for the rest of my life was a bouncy, disco walk with a rotating disco ball above my head. Of course, the dream (in my mind) would be that I would be doing this and other people (various ones) would join me from behind and then we would do this fabulous choreographed dance that we already knew and everybody would turn and watch and then applaud when we were done. I love choreography. Sigh.
What if my cat told me one day, "you know", (of course, this is in a snooty cat voice) "I don't really like going pooh in a box. I'd like to use the toilet. I promise I'll never drag my butt on the carpet again." Man, I'd love that.
What if the only way I liked to run in my neighborhood (at 5am) was to scream at the top of my lungs and swing my arms about? I wonder if that would garner attention?
What if my husband grew elf ears? And a tail? That would be crazy. Because the other stuff isn't.
What if I actually listened to my inner voice tell me, "Don't wear your freakin' heels to work! They hurt your feet by 3pm! You work with 5 and 6 year olds, for crying out loud!"
What if I woke up in a cartoon and I was the unfortunate character that had pianos and anvils dropping on my head? Oh wait. That already happens.