Tag Archives: breakfast

A photo essay: The Breakfast Dance

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Summer! At last!

Summer got here on Tuesday and we’re all enjoying it very much. There’s smell-o-vison and windows staying open all night. For Zensai there is the extra special treat of pansies. Pansies are one of my favorite flowers. They are one of Zen’s favorite foods. One of the best things about visiting my parents, in his mind at least, is that my mother would let me take him outside to eat pansies in “the wild.”

Yesterday we went to a barbecue at a friend’s house. It was most excellent. The problem is that this is also the week that a local publication, for which I do the layout on weekends, doubled in size.  Rather than miss the party, I decided to work into the wee hours when I got back. So I did.

The Boy gave up on me around midnight and headed upstairs. Kitten Thunder napped in the office with me until we were finally able to go to bed around 2:30 a.m.

This morning I opened my eyes to find that I was completely alone. I went downstairs and asked The Boy if there hadn’t been any of the normal “it could be time for breakfast” poking and silliness from Oliver. Because I don’t remember it.

“Oh, there was poking,” says The Boy.

“So they decided that maybe The Girl was dead and moved on to you?”

“Yep.”

I have a good Boy.

Oliver was very happy when it turned out that I, in fact, was not dead – just dead to the world. We had some serious snuggle time on the couch this morning. And a nap…because I got up way too early.

Obi’s Morning Routine

Alarm. Oli encouraging The Girl to get up.

Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed. Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed. Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed. Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed. Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed. Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed.

Stretch. Jump off loveseat. Mosey over to the bed. Pass between clock’s projector and wall so The Girl knows of presence and says, “hello Tail.” Say nothing.

Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed. Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed. Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed. Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed. Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed. Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed.

Go downstairs. Check to see what is on OutTV in The Boy’s office.

Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed. Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed. Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed. Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed. Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed. Oli running to the stairs. Oli running back to the bed.

The Girl walking down the stairs. Oliver thundering down stairs. Run to breakfast nook.

Tuna? Cat food? Put it on the plate. Some for me, too? Not just Oli?

Food on two plates. Scritch from The Girl.

Oliver eating off my plate. Move to other plate. Oliver eating off my plate. Move to other plate. Oliver eating off my plate. Move to other plate. Oliver eating off my plate. Move to other plate. Oliver eating off my plate. Move to other plate. Oliver eating off my plate. Move to other plate. Oliver eating off my plate. Move to other plate. Oliver eating off my plate. Move to other plate. Oliver is done.

The Boy comes into the kitchen. Ignore him while licking plates spotlessly clean.

Watch OutTV from dining room.

Watch OutTV from front living room window.

Watch OutTV from couch window. Scritch from The Girl. Ignore The Girl when she tries to point out squirrels out front window OutTV. Pretend to be very interested in empty branches out couch window.

Robot that makes smelly life-giving juice cries. The Boy goes into the kitchen.

Race to the kitchen. “Belly rub. Belly rub. BELLY RUB! GIVE ME A BELLY RUB!” Lead boy to living room rug.

Belly rub. The Boy and The Girl make commentary on the neglect to which they subject their cats. Despite conversation, seem unrepentant. The Boy walks away without satisfactorily completing belly rub. Returns to hand life-giving juice to The Girl. Get underfoot.

Return to office with The Boy. Scratch rug. Jump in box. Jump out of box. Jump in box. Jump out of box.

The Girl walks in. Picked up. The Girl and The Boy make commentary on the abuse to which they subject their cats. Again, seem unrepentant. Set down.

Follow The Girl upstairs to watch her poke herself in the eye with clear disks. Jump on bed – become Bed Monster. Belly rub. Follow The Girl to the stairs and jump up on half wall over staircase.

"I walk the line between black and white, light and dark, up...and a long way down."

“Obi, you’re going to give your mother a heart attack.” Go down stairs touching only six steps. Follow Girl to other stairs, slowly, to play peeking around the corner game. The Girl yells, “Boo!” Pretend to be startled. Run.

Downstairs to watch The Girl. Upstairs to supervise The Boy’s teeth brushing. Belly rub. Downstairs to watch The Girl. Upstairs to supervise The Boy’s de-hairification. Belly rub.

Kill the bath mat.

“Goodbye, boys!” People gone.

Time for a nap.

Oli and The Girl’s Morning Routine

Poke.

Poke poke.

Nose.

Roll over.

Hair pull. Growl a warning.

Poke. Poke poke. Growl.

– Alarm –

Breakfast? Breakfast breakfast? Run to stairs.

Roll over.

Return to bed; peek over the edge. Breakfast? Breakfast breakfast? Run to stairs. Return to bed; peek over the edge. Breakfast? Breakfast breakfast? Run to stairs. Return to bed; peek over the edge. Breakfast? Breakfast breakfast? Run to stairs. Return to bed; peek over the edge. Breakfast? Breakfast breakfast? Run to stairs. Return to bed; peek over the edge. Breakfast? Breakfast breakfast? Run to stairs. Return to bed; peek over the edge. Breakfast? Breakfast breakfast? Run to stairs. Return to bed; peek over the edge. Breakfast? Breakfast breakfast? Run to stairs. Return to bed; peek over the edge. Breakfast? Breakfast breakfast? Run to stairs.

Get up. Walk to breakfast nook.

Breakfast? Breakfast breakfast? Will it be tuna? Open the can. Put it all on my plate.

Split can of food on two plates. Walk to couch.

Okay, breakfast on two plates. Two bites here. Then to Obi’s plate. Two bites. Then to my plate. Two bites. Then to Obi’s plate. Two bites. Then to my plate. Two bites. Then to Obi’s plate. Two bites. One more bite. Back to my plate. Done.

The Boy is in the kitchen. Breakfast? Breakfast breakfast? No.

Snuggle The Girl to reward her for breakfast. Allow The Boy to scritch head when smelly, lifegiving juice is delivered. Try not to be annoyed by The Girl’s hand shifting to take juice.

Drink coffee. Good Boy.