Becky's 17-inch growth-spurt troubled me so last night, as she slept, I surgically removed her pituitary gland to check hormone levels. Normal. That's a relief. "Honey, I dreamed you performed surgery on me," she blurted. We both laughed, me not so convincingly. "I must tell you, I removed your pituitary gland last night," I admitted. Surprisingly, she was not surprised. "I suspected as much. Well? What did you find?" She asked sincerely. "You're normal," I reported. "Good. You know I trust you. Will you be surgically removing my other organs in the near future?" She asked between sips of tea. "Yes, but only because I deeply care about you," I replied.