This morning, it was about my grandparents' house. In real life, it was a really cool house. It was built on a giant plot of land in a really peaceful neighborhood, and it started as a two-room house and eventually became a giant 3-bedroom. Amazing brick living room looking out onto a giant, screened-in porch. Master bedroom with an entire wall of closet with floor-to-ceiling mirror sliding doors. Nothing particularly ostentatious, just big and well-done. My mom's stepdad eventually even added a huge workshop and a freestanding garage big enough for a Winnebago.
In the dream this morning, everyone was still alive, and we were there checking the place out as somewhere to possibly take over and move into. The garage had become a miniature warehouse, and there was an apartment-sized master suite upstairs in one corner. I was pretty excited about it, but suddenly I realized the concrete wasn't dry and everyone had messed it up. We started to smooth it back out, when a huge row of cabinetry came crashing down, destroying two cars.
I almost never realize I'm dreaming, no matter how ridiculous the situation becomes. When it does happen, I really enjoy the experience of lucid dreaming, but it's rare. I should have realized it immediately when my mom's stepdad told me he loved me in the dream, because that definitely never would have happened in real life.