What do our dreams mean - I only wish I knew!

I had the weirdest dream last night – and I promise you this is true….

For some reason I was transported back to age seven – it would appear as a punishment for something. I know that it was age seven because I was having a birthday party. The problem was that although I was bodily seven years old, my mind was still thirty-something – so every thought and realisation was that of an adult.
As the moment of the party drew near I got increasingly worried that nobody would turn up; and then when the kiddies started arriving I was disappointed all over again – I didn’t like any of them. These were not my friends, these were my so-called peers that my mum had thought to invite.
Next – presents. Again, no excitement at all! I looked at my bounty and all I could see was a pile of cheap plastic tat (hmmm, there’s gratitude for you!). A lot of the presents were obviously second-hand – recycled unwanted gifts from my so-called friends – bits were missing and batteries needed replacing.
Then it was party games. All I was concerned about was would all the bouncing around make the kiddies sick – yuk!
So I did what all right-minded seven year olds would do in this nightmare scenario – I went and hid in my wardrobe! Strangely enough, nobody missed me. I remember looking at my watch, and calculating how long I would need to keep squirreled away. The invites were from 5pm til 7pm, so I figured a couple of hours would keep me safe. Pretty savvy for a seven year old, but then my brain was in thirties mode…
Later on, after my period of refuge, I ventured downstairs to face my mother’s wrath – I knew I would really be in for it!
As I walked into the sitting room I looked up at my mum, I put on my sweetest smile and apologised for my behaviour immediately. I explained that I hadn’t been feeling well and so had kept out of the way. To my astonishment my mother was all smiles too… She totally understood and said I had done the right thing. Phew!!
Next I looked out of the window – it was blowing a howling gale and my dad was out there building a chicken run. But he hates the things!!?

What does all this mean?
No, I am not on drugs.
Neither had I been eating cheese.
Still, it makes for good entertainment – so goodnight, sweet dreams and have a laugh on me!