I was about to turn the TV on, to check the news(?), when I realised my daughter and wife were there with me, too. My daughter was TEN YEARS YOUNGER than she is now and my wife only arrived later, but...
I felt like this was some sort of 'transition' setting. My (younger) daughter on the couch, like that, sleeping under makeshift linens and covers, like I did when I was that age, as we moved from relative's couch to relative's couch avoiding evil men.
There was a crack in the curtain and an old man dragged a stubborn golden retriever up the street on its behind. But the significant part of the whole dream was my Rapunzel hair. It was lovely and glossy and jet black and it went all the way down to my feet. I was wondering about how I could go early-morning jogging like this, with superlong shiny black hair.
A voice to my right, that reminded me of the old eight in the Bablock Hythe opening-mouth dream said, CANCER that's what overgrown hair means. I checked my arm hair, but it was normal, no signs of overgrowth. Just my head, with its lovely long locks that softly moved and swayed as I stalked around the living room.
The clock on the wall above the TV registered 07:50.