why is everything comically large in my non-sexual dreams?

The fact that I awake to find myself living in a cookie cutter house in a plain suburban neighborhood would normally have been alarming, were it not for the humongous steamrollers steadily making their way down the street leaving destruction and devastation in their wake. It is important to note that these steamrollers were not humongous by normal standards; they were of an amusingly obscene size. I would liken their size in comparison to the houses as that of a foot to an ant. In any case, these ridiculously large steamrollers are steadily crushing whole blocks as they quickly approach my very own house.
As if a wealth of knowledge has suddenly been downloaded into my brain, I recall the recent threats the Chinese have made to “destroy the United States” unless certain outlandish terms are met. Apparently, the Chinese have been building more than faux purses and tiny cell phones, as these gargantuan machines prove.
By some stroke of unknown genius, our house is immediately lifted by an enormous crane. My view of the lifting of the house and the crane itself is from a near cartoonish standpoint, looking directly at the earth from space with the crane perched ludicrously on top of the globe.
The crane itself appears to be nearly ¼ the size of the earth.
Were this the only unrealistic element thus far, it probably would have struck me as odd. It did not.
Moving on…The abnormally large crane lifts my house straight off the face of the earth, swings it ‘round and plops it down onto the lunar surface.
At this point I should also mention that not only do ratios of proportional size cease to exist, but also all known laws of nature regarding probability and physics are of little concern.Once safely positioned on the moon, the inhabitants of the house rejoice. This consists of me, my stepmother, and two unknown male persons that I can only assume are close acquaintances.
However, the celebration is cut short when a steamroller is seen making it’s way across the horizon approaching the house.
Panic ensues.
My stepmother fetches what appears to be a Ziploc bag half filled with blackened cheerios. She explains that it is poison, and we must all eat it…or be flattened alive by the Asian invasion.
As we prepare to swallow the “poison” the steamrollers lurch to a sudden halt. Before anyone can say “beat a hasty retreat in fear of the white devil,” the steamrollers are gone.
We rejoice.
This celebration also does not last long.
My stepmother explains that we now face certain suffocation. Apparently the astrophysics associated with humans being on the moon sans space suits is suddenly a relevant issue.
I chew my discolored breakfast cerealesque “poison” tablets.
As I choke on my last breath….I wake up.