It’s amazing how something that can’t talk can reduce you to complete, sputtering incoherency.
This morning, BikerDude had to get up early (at 6:00) in order to get to his 8:00 class, but I wanted to sleep in a little longer. Hah! All of the cats got the idea that since someone was up, everyone should be up, so they began a relentless campaign. After BikerDude had left and before my alarm went off, MonkeyChild's little Mama Cat Denny had taken over the bed-- quite an accomplishment for a cat that weighs less than six pounds. She was simultaneously tunneling under the covers, biting my hand to get me to pet her, purring LOUDLY and chasing off any other cat who tried to get onto the bed.
Meanwhile, Razor had stolen the drain plug from the bathroom sink and was playing hockey with it in the bathroom. Nothing like the quiet sounds of a hard rubber disk being smacked against vinyl floor, porcelain and the walls accompanied by the galumphing of a 15 lb. moose cat pouncing around after it to lull you back to sleep. A few minutes later there was a hissing and swatting match at my bedroom door, but I ignored it. Kaos retreated from his attempts to get on the bed (thwarted by Denny) and took up residence on top of the wardrobe, perched like a gargoyle on one corner and sizing up the opposition as the came and went from the room.
I had just about dozed off when I realized that someone was on the jewelry armoire next to my bed (a little chest on four spindly legs that has all of my jewelry in it and also serves as a bedside table for me at the moment, until I can find some good bookshelves that are the right height). I thought it was Kaos, who generally climbs on everything, but no. It was Razor. Who is (a) MUCH less agile than Kaos and (b) far too big to be climbing on such a precarious piece of furniture. Which he discovered when he let out a startled little yip as he lost his footing and fell to the floor. I turned over to make sure that he was alright and realized what he had been doing up there: Reaching down, opening a drawer and fishing out one of my necklaces!
Do you know how many swear words you can mutter when you are half-asleep? A lot. I think I made up a few.
Which will give me something to pray about later, I suppose, so it all works out.