I dreamt that Louis CK and Tig Notaro were raising a bunch of kids together in a fake house on a sound stage. Flats with no ceilings, hard beds, faucets with no water, things that seemed real but when you look close there are price tags and porcelain bananas. They asked me to give their kids a bath with a special lavender shampoo that you could only find at Walmart. I prepared the bath for their set of quintuplets with water from a series of fake cantaloupes. Then we all went for an evening stroll through the telephone poles, up a dark street towards a cul de sac. As we strolled, Tig and Louis each put an arm around me, as if to say, you are one of us now, and I took in their jokes which were moreso just sad stories about ice cream, and I hoped that somewhere, there was a person hiding in a bush taking our picture, so that when I woke up confused and shook off the dream, the image would Stay.