Thursday, October 14, 2010

The early bird doesn't get much sleep

I know that I have mentioned a time or two on here that I am not a morning person.  I'm really not.  I like to sleep.  The boy goes to a school other than the one we are zoned for which starts at 7:00 am!  This means that we (either Mr. Wonderful or I) have to leave the house at 6:30 am to drive him there.  

We do not enjoy this.

At all.

Mr. Wonderful has been home the past week or so to do the morning driving which, in theory, should mean that I am able to sleep in a bit, right?  Wrong.  Because I sleep like a bird...I wake up when the alarm goes off, or when the little chirpy, beeping thing from the security system that tells you when a door is opened goes off, or when Clay's bird starts getting all happy and whistling when the sun comes up, or when the water pump (outside our bathroom window) starts running....well, you get the idea.  I am a light sleeper, and once something wakes me up...I'm up.  And I'm not happy about it.

I need to invest in some earplugs.  

I used to take that early morning time to drink/guzzle my coffee, look at the sunrise (grumpily) and check email.  But the past week or so, I have been accosted every morning by a needy male.

No, I haven't been accosted by Mr. Wonderful!  By Jack!

He announces his intentions by standing beside the bed and squeaking his high pitched, girly meow before he leaps upon the bed.  He begins purring loudly and then he pushes his way into my lap.  He doesn't seem to care if I am busy.

He tries to curl up and he gazes at me lovingly.

I try to ignore him.

He pushes against my arm/hand/leg/chin and purrs even more loudly.  He demands attention.

When he realizes that he really doesn't fit in my lap anymore and he isn't very comfortable, he begins lurching and launching himself into more comfortable positions - for him, NOT for me!  

Sometimes, usually, this involves lying on top of my laptop.

While still purring and gazing lovingly (obsessively?) at me...

(By the way, take a gander at the size of the paws.  He's 8 months old.)

I try moving him to another spot.  He comes back.  I try pushing him away.  Back he comes.  He is relentless, and pushy, and stubborn.


He's awfully sweet, too.

Finally, I give in and move my coffee mug to a safer place and begin to pet him and rub behind his ears.  He purrs.

He is happy.

I just want some more coffee.

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