The downside with an odd sleep pattern and 3 furry besties who have unique sleep patterns is that I’m awake every couple of hours.
Early this morning, I thought I’d get smart about feedings and my snoot & book wake-up calls. I had a handful of cat food in my PJ pocket (if you’re wondering how women’s PJs can have pockets in their pants, they can’t. Apparently, there’s a law against that. I bought men’s PJs).
When The Sir came to the foot of the bed and sang for his second breakfast, I was ready. I dropped the handful of food, rolled over, congratulating myself, and prepping to fall back asleep.
Then I heard the crunch.
And realized that was not the sound of feline jaws opening and closing in culinary delight.
Apparently, The Miss had moved from the bed to sleeping on the floor. I basically woke her up by raining food down on her…
I’m 99% certain she was already dreaming of food, and my caper has now solidified her belief that dreams can become reality, if only she dreams hard enough.
And…I still had to get up and feed The Sir.
Tonight, I’ll try again.
