This morning, driving my son to school, I was slightly afraid that he was going to die from lack of oxygen because he was laughing so hard he couldn't breath properly. All because he asked me how my sleep was last night.
"Last night? Last night's sleep was fine," I replied. "It was this morning that was a bit of an issue."
I woke up around 6:30am, about an hour before I normally do, and had to use the restroom. So, I scampered off to do my business, happy to crawl back under the covers for another hour. Except as soon as I lay back down, my husband rolled over in his sleep, half on top of me, and began a dream where I assumed he was running away from a vicious hoard of zombies intent on feasting on his brain. I wasn't sure if I should wake him, grab a weapon, or call an exorcist.
As I was wrestling with the decision of what to do, I heard the cat loudly sharpening her claws on her scratchy post in the living room. The cat is far over due to have her claws trimmed, and the idea of her sharpening those already razor sharp sickles filled me with dread for the next time she decides to play KILL THE HAND! with my hand. Then, there was a split second of silence before the sound of a herd of elephants went tearing up the stairs. DUH-DUM DUH-DUM DUH-DUM DUH-DUM! The herd of elephants, of course, was only the cat pretending she's a saber tooth tiger chasing a mammoth up the icy steppes. Then the mammoth turned and chased her down the stairs. DUM-DUH DUM-DUH DUM-DUH DUM-DUH! Then she ran around the living room and kitchen for a bit, making the little bell on her collar scream in panic. JINGLE JINGLE JINGLE JINGLE! Before once again tearing up the stairs after her imaginary prey. DUH-DUM DUH-DUM DUH-DUM DUH-DUM!
All her crashing about alerted Zack, the big dog, to the mammoths that had invaded our house, and he had to see if he could be of assistance to the intrepid huntress. He padded around the room a few times, then headed out into the living room.
Zack typically sleeps on a bean bag, and Toby, the other dog, sleeps in a dog bed. However, when Zack left to aide in the mammoth hunt, Toby decided the bean bag would be much more comfortable. Which resulted in a five minute beat down of the bean bag to make it conform to Toby's shape. CRUNCH CRUNCH CRUNCH!
All the while, my husband was running from the hoard.
Then, around 7am, I heard my son fall out of bed upstairs- his customary way of waking up. Followed by the footsteps of Zack heading up the stairs to say good morning. And soon after, Zack coming back down the stairs and into my room. Where he sat by my side of the bed, and stared at me. This is pretty standard as he is not allowed on the bed until 7:20am, so he sits, stares, and occasionally licks my hand if it escapes from the covers to try to convince me to let him in bed a little early.
On the dot, Zack jumped up into bed, and I had a crunchy stuffed armadillo dog toy touching my nose. Eeeww. So I took it away from him and dropped it on the floor. I then opened my eyes and realized I was staring directly into two dark dog nostrils. His breath puffing on my face. And then he let out a great big dog yawn. I thought he was going to eat my face! That dog does the loudest yawns I have ever heard! AAARRRR-OOOOPP!
Following his gigantic eat-your-face-yawn, Zack did a massive flop into my stomach, knocking the air out of me. He then began shuffling towards my face, slowly getting closer and closer. Once he got into position, he stretched himself across my chest so he could give Steve a great big doggy good morning kiss- much to Steve's dismay.
"What was Toby doing?" my son asked between peels of laughter.
Toby was in his customary morning spot- Steve's pillow- cleaning himself loudly. SLURP SLURP!
It wasn't long after that we gave up and got up for the day.
Needless to say, it was a rather interesting morning wake-up call.
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