Stupid Subconscious

My brother and I were asked by officers at my work to fight off the bears. In preparation, we practiced by jumping off diving boards into several different pools and then donned a new type of cloth-armor. We headed out to the fields by my house where we knew the beasts were. They were horrifying bears, not unlike the monsters that plague the castaways on Lost.
Our strategy was obvious: we needed to defeat them by playing soccer. And play we did. Though I had never played in my youth, my brother and I were both surprised at how good I was. We made for a great duo. In fact, such was our skill that we were challenged by a passing team of Iraqi soccer players. In the end, we defeated both the bears and the Iraqis. Not only were my employers happy, but I enjoyed telling Annie of my exploits.

Then my alarm clock woke me up.

What kind of mad dream was that? I got ready for the morning and then snuck back into room to say good-bye to Annie. She said, "You were talking in your sleep last night."
"Oh, I was? What was I saying?" I expected her to then tell of how I shouted "GGGOOOOAAAALLL," or "Take that, you foul bears!" But, no.
She said, "You said, 'Hello? Hi, honey, how are you? You want daddy to come home? Aw, mmm hmmm." Evidentally, I had had a very pleasant dream in which I was having a sweet conversation with one of the girls. Why couldn't I have remembered that dream instead? Stupid subconscious.