A Dream is a Wish Your Gut Makes

I had a food dream a few weeks ago while I was doing some morning couch sleeping. I was making Nerd's breakfast and packing his diet-friendly snacks (trust me, this is about as thoughtful as I get) as I do every morning. As I rummaged through the fridge, I came across a pound of bacon. You know how excited you get when you find a long-forgotten $100 bill in your parka pocket (I don't know either--just imagine, OK?)? That's how excited I was about this bacon. However, I was worried that Nerd would see the bacon and want some for himself, so I squirreled it away in the back of the fridge, burying it under rotten leftovers and produce, and planned to fry up the whole pound for myself after he left for work. [Am I this duplicitous in real life? Maybe.] As I continued with my food preparations, I nibbled on a caramel-filled chocolate Easter bunny I had stashed in the corner behind my mixer. I was careful to wash my hands when they got too carmelly (carmely?) so I wouldn't mess up the carrot container or anything tell-tale like that. The bunny was delicious. I've never eaten real bunny, but I can't imagine it's better than caramel-filled chocolate. 

I have no idea what to make of this dream. Obviously I like bacon, chocolate and caramel more than I should, but all the sneakiness worries me. Is snarfing down Funyuns and candy corn while hiding in the coat closet in my future? Will I tell you if it happens?