A Nightmare for the Modern Age

Joe had bad dreams all night, yelling in his sleep and kicking off the covers. Several times I got up to rub his back and settle him down. Even this morning before waking up, he was tossing and turning, mumbling to himself in some dream conversation. Clearly he had been disturbed all night long. Was it the Big Bad Wolf? A monster? A robber trying to steal him away in the night? I went to him again and, noticing he was starting to wake up, asked him if he was having bad dreams. "Yes! I kept telling you, Mommy, to stop putting recycle stuff in the trash can but you wouldn't listen!"