I got up before I wanted to this morning. Never mind that it was already 30 minutes past my usual Saturday/Sunday wake-up time.
My aging bones were tired from the day before – waking at 5:20 am, putting in a focused and busy eight hours at work, and helping in the evening with the 3-4-5 energy-ready kids at church while mom and dad went out on date night. Exhausted!
The reason for an early rise? It goes like this…
Yes, there is no snooze button or sleeping in when the “kids” are hungry (secret code for “when Gibbs is hungry”) on a Saturday morning. My male feline is a bit incessant and impatient once we are two hours past his usual Monday through Friday feeding time. Gibbs and Ziva are like most cats, they are on a schedule that shall not be broken. Their world turns upside down when human veers from said schedule. It’s as though the sky is falling and Mr. Gibbs finds it his duty to warn me.
“Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom! Get up! Ziva and I are s-t-a-r-v-i-n-g! Mom! Mom! Mom!”
The human ignores and rolls over.
The paw comes out. Just a pat on the head. Maybe two pats.
Human says, “Ohfercryinoutloud!” and rolls over again, covering head with sheet.
Out come the claws. *evil cat laugh* The claws penetrate the sheet.
“Really?” cries the human. Can’t a girl sleep?
Inside Gibbs’ head, he is thinking, “Yes, really. You know the drill. We come first before your stupid sleep. Our stomachs take precedence. We are hungry and it’s two hours past feeding time. Your coffee is done brewing, you need to get up. By the way, Ziva would be clawing at you too, but she’s too polite and too weak from inadequate sustenance. So get up before I do something naughty that we’ll both regret.”
Human peeks out from the sheet, one eye open. She tries to ignore, tries to go back to sleep.
That’s it, out comes the naughty.
“Gibbs! Quit pawing at the mirror! Geeeeeezzzz!”
Gibbs looks at human innocently, knowing full well that he will continue if his demands are not met.
Human understands the inevitable consequences and gets up. Foiled again.
The felines sing with glee and race to the kitchen, looking plaintively, longingly…
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, could you wait until I pour myself a cup of coffee?”
What a stupid question.
Cats fed. Back on schedule. The sky is secure. Cat’s sleep, human grumbles.