Hey little sister who's your Superman?

So I have this recurring dream. I'm in drab loft apartment. No furniture except a crappy futon for a couch and a television set the size of vulgarity sitting on the opposite wall. I'm lying on said crappy futon with my head in a man's lap. We start to argue over the remote until we are both standing face to face screaming, then I take the remote and bounce it off his head. And then I wake up. I don't know who the man is, and when I wake up all I can remember of him is his Superman t-shirt. Almost everyone I know has a Superman t-shirt. And the craziest thing about it is- I almost never fight over the remote. Unless Gilmore Girls is on or I'm watching a movie, I could not care less about controlling the remote.