Something that I wasn't confused or puzzled by, but what I think you should know; Imagine the real reason for why Bilbo left his home and ran off with the dwarves.

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"Blunt the knives, bend the forks

Smash the bottles and burn the corks"

"No, no, not the corks" Bilbo murmured. He turned around in his bed. The pillow was spotted with drool. "Anything but the corks."

Bilbo pulled his pillow away from underneath his head to hold it close against his chest. 

Plates were rolling around him in perfect circles. A never ending loop of all his perfect dishware. He reached out his hand a few times when they were getting a little too close to the wall. "Don't break" he murmured.

"Chip the glasses and crack the plates

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates"

He slowly nodded his head. "I don't like that. No."

Forks and knives were thrown in as well. They followed the same pattern as the plates but followed their own unique rhythm.

Some plates were hand-drawn by his grandmother. Those plates were given to his mother and she had left them to him. Nothing could happen to them or his mother would get up again and chase him and -

"Cut the cloth, trail the fat"

"NOT MY CLOTH!" Bilbo screamed.

Scissors came down from the ceiling and landed on the plates. Where they had been dancing before they now laid still on the floor. Shattered into a thousand little pieces. 

One by one they gathered together around poor little Bilbo. The walls raised so high that he couldn't see the top anymore. The bricks of the wall towered over him like pumpkin pies that were stacked too high.

"And what fat?" Bilbo buried his nose in the matress. "I am just filled with love."

"Leave the bones on the bedroom matt

Pour the milk on the pantry floor

Splash the wine on every door"

"My beautiful, beautiful home. Don't throw bones around in my house. There is a place for that." Bilbo sighed deeply.  

The pile of shattered plates kept growing and growing. Small bones were landing on top of the pile, starting to rise to Bilbo's shoulders. 

He desperately tried to get up, fight his way to the front door. 

Sun light was guiding him towards his only escape route. But he didn't seem to be getting that far. With every bone or plate he pushed away, ten more seemed to come falling down the ceiling. 

"Don't bury me in dwarf snot." Bilbo reached up with his hands, trying to shield himself from the falling green goo. 

"Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl

Pound them up with a thumping pole

And when you've finished if they are whole"

"I don't want to know. Don't tell me" Bilbo whined. His forehead was getting sweaty.

The door was coming closer, the doorknob within his reach. "Almost, there." 

"Send them down the hall to roll!

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates"

One final leap forward and he fell in a dark hole, barely touching the wooden door. He just kept falling, and falling, and falling, and falling, and falling. 

And falling.

Bilbo shot up in bed. The pillow was send falling down to the floor as he did so. 

His honey blonde curls stuck to his forehead. His chest rapidly went up and down as he took in his surroundings. There were no bones or broken pieces of plates around him. Bilbo safely laid in his bed.

A wet soaken bed but a bed none the less.

Something dawned on him. He threw his blanket off and reached for his clothes. He had to check on something. A certain room in his house that had been full the other day. 

If that was still filled to the brim with food than everything that happened was nothing more than a dream. A nightmare that he could wake up from. Hopefully he had done so right now.

Outside you could hear fuzzy hairy feet running down from room to room.

The pantry was empty.

Bilbo blinked a few times before reality set in.

His pantry was actually empty. 

The only prove that there had been dwarves in his house the day before was right there in front of him. No more cheese wheels. He had nine of them just the morning before!

For what reason had they needed this amount of cheese? It was absurd!

And all the wine was gone too! Did dwarves not only drink ale? The one thing that Bilbo couldn't go without besides bread, cheese, cake, tomatoes, pastries, pie, butter, cucumbers, honey, jam, apples, pears and potatoes was wine!

There was only one thing for it.

The contract was waiting for him on his dinner table. Thorin and Balin had signed the contract. 

If Bilbo wanted someone to pay for all of his last food, then there was only one thing he could do. Chase the one who robbed him and follow them to their last day. 

No hobbit would let this crime go unpunished!