Saturday Morning (should) = Sleep In
My alarm goes off during the week at 6:30. George is either already on the bed and staring at me to catch me move so she can jump on me or she's somewhere in the house which gives her room to get up speed and force to jump on me when she hears the alarm.
Mostly, I have to then submit to getting my face washed or my fingers gnawed on or give her non-stop pets and scratches around her ears and chin. If I'm lucky, she'll be content to tuck her head under my hand and just lie on me and purr. No matter what she chooses to do, I'm pretty much done with snoozing. That's OK since I eventually have to get up and go to work.
My alarm doesn't go off on Saturday. My fondest desire is to sleep in as late as I can because it's usually the only day I have for that (if I'm lucky to have even one day). I thought the alarm was the Pavlovian influence on George. Turns out, it's more like the recess bell and she's still antsy and ready for play even if it doesn't go off on schedule.
This morning, she waited until after 7 which probably nearly killed her. After 7 to jump on me. She was watching me well before that because I woke up just from sensing her eyes on me. I tried very hard to not appear to be awake but eventually I had to move.
Pounce!
There was no resting after that. She was all over me as I read the paper and ate my breakfast and thought about taking a little nap. Only thought about it because I knew she wouldn't let me.
I got some payback, though. My shower has a slow drain and she likes to stand on the edge of the tub and watch the water go down. It only took a little tiny push with one finger and, splash, scrabble, scrabble, walk on water and out the bathroom door she went.
Tee hee.
Now, if only she had a brain big enough to associate falling in the tub with getting Mommy up early on Saturday...
Mostly, I have to then submit to getting my face washed or my fingers gnawed on or give her non-stop pets and scratches around her ears and chin. If I'm lucky, she'll be content to tuck her head under my hand and just lie on me and purr. No matter what she chooses to do, I'm pretty much done with snoozing. That's OK since I eventually have to get up and go to work.
My alarm doesn't go off on Saturday. My fondest desire is to sleep in as late as I can because it's usually the only day I have for that (if I'm lucky to have even one day). I thought the alarm was the Pavlovian influence on George. Turns out, it's more like the recess bell and she's still antsy and ready for play even if it doesn't go off on schedule.
This morning, she waited until after 7 which probably nearly killed her. After 7 to jump on me. She was watching me well before that because I woke up just from sensing her eyes on me. I tried very hard to not appear to be awake but eventually I had to move.
Pounce!
There was no resting after that. She was all over me as I read the paper and ate my breakfast and thought about taking a little nap. Only thought about it because I knew she wouldn't let me.
I got some payback, though. My shower has a slow drain and she likes to stand on the edge of the tub and watch the water go down. It only took a little tiny push with one finger and, splash, scrabble, scrabble, walk on water and out the bathroom door she went.
Tee hee.
Now, if only she had a brain big enough to associate falling in the tub with getting Mommy up early on Saturday...
