Dorian: "Did I make breakfast, or did I dream that?"
Me: "You dreamt it."
Dorian, falling back to sleep: "Noo...why do I always do that to myself...but I don't think that's right..."
Taking the hint, I go and make oatmeal.* A few minutes later:
Me: "Did you still want breakfast?"
Me: "Well, then sit up. I made you breakfast."
Dorian: "But I did. I made biscuits and sausages with gravy."
Me, quoting Doctor Who, and commenting on the state of our larder: "But where did the eggs and milk come from?"
Dorian: "We had them...(whispers) The rest I made up."
* I still hate oatmeal, but it's what we've got. Dorian commented, "The breakfast I made in my dream was slightly more exciting than oatmeal. But this is still good."