I love sleeping in. Waking up slowly, streeeeeetching out in bed, turning over and dozing off for another half hour just because you can ... life is good.
Unless you have a cat.
7:30am: Maow. Maow. Maow. Maow. (this serenade accompanied by repeated treks up and over me, and up and down my back, claws out of course)
7:45am: Snurfle? Flurfle! Snorgle! SNORF! (these noises describe her breathing process as she attempts to cheek-swipe my semi-exposed face)
8:00am: Magically the floofy tail always happens to land right on my face no matter how she is sprawled out on the bed. For some reason. Mere coincidence.
8:15am: FINE. Fine. I'll get up. But ya know what? I'm the human, I'm smarter than you, so I'll get up and pretend I'm staying up, but once you're in the living room distracted by your toy mousie, I'll slip back to bed and nab another half hour.
8:45am: right on schedule, half an hour later, MAOW? MAOW??? MAAAAAAAOOOOOOW? She has "lost" herself in the living room, and freaks out about where I am. Enters the bedroom, "MAWWWW?" I wiggle a foot to let her know where I am, and instantly a purry furry warm happy kitty curls up next to me and we both drift off to sleep again.
9:00am: Ok, now I'm up and awake. And what does she want to do? Sleep. In bed. FINE. See if SHE likes it - maow! maow! maow! maow!
I am ignored......
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