Tag Archives: morning

Whineybutt

How long does it take a tall grey kitten to pull a plate of cheesecake off the counter? Not long enough for me to run upstairs to open the windows.

Whose fault is it that he doesn’t like cheesecake? Mine, evidently.

And now, a note from Oliver:

This morning, at around 2 a.m., I figured out the key to world peace. The solution was so simple and it would also solve the world’s hunger problems AND bring back unicorns.

Obviously, I wanted to share this news with the people right away.

I jumped to the toothbrush stand and called my discovery to the ceiling. The Boy rolled over. The Girl did nothing. I went closer because maybe she couldn’t hear me.

Sitting on the floor by the bed, I called out my news again. I could tell she was awake but she still did nothing. She didn’t even open her eyes. I think this is part of what she was telling The Boy about “not offering positive reinforcement” when I have something important to say in the morning. Whatever THAT means. All I know is that she used to show me that she agreed with me by saying “SSSH!” And now she doesn’t.

Since I know she’s not getting stupider, I think she’s just agreeing silently. We’ve transcended words…which is good because her accent is horrible.

I snuggled up to The Girl and she stroked my head. I forgot about my discovery and dozed off for a minute. But then it hit me! Breakfast! Of course the people would be more interested in this type of conversation over a meal.

I sprang to my feet and invited The Girl to feed me. Awake, but unresponsive. So I poked her in the nose. About twenty times. Nothing.

I stomped over her and onto The Boy. He grunted. Then nothing. And The Girl did nothing. This is weird because The Girl is really protective of The Boy – he is, after all, one of her pack. She takes good care of all of us. And he’s hopeless compared to Obi and me.

After a long effort, trying to get the people up to hear my ideas, I was exhausted and succumbed to sleep.

The breakfast bell went off. I told The Girl, as we went downstairs, that I had a brilliant idea. She called me a whineybutt. So did The Boy. I assume this is a term for geniuses or pioneers.

After breakfast I met The Girl on the couch for post-breakfast snuggle. At last, I would be able to tell her my idea.

But I forgot.

Things That Go Bump All Freakin’ Morning

On occasion, Obi will help his brother with the effort to annoy us out of bed. Usually it involves knocking things off the toothbrush table. Today, that something was the smoke detector that I think was broken and replaced by a new one – well, it’s broken now.

The annoyance also involves bump bump bumping the bathroom cabinet. Before our trip, The Boy and I had started closing the bathroom door at night. We haven’t done that since coming back and it has been fine.

Until last night.

But it wasn’t the cabinets.

Now Obi has learned to bump bump bump the bathroom door. He pushes it to almost closed but, since he is short and only ten pounds, he can’t push hard enough to latch the door. So it bounces back. And he pushes it again. And it bounces back.

“Obi. Stop.” Bumpbumpbump.

“Stop.” Bumpbump.

I got up and two kittens – the grey kitten had been crying for an hour – tore out of the room to avoid the anticipated spankings. I wasn’t even thinking about that, but whatever. I pushed the door all the way open.

Five minutes later: bumpbumpbump.

“Ooooobi.” Bumpbumpbump. Oh yes, and Oliver was crying again. Have I mentioned it was three in the morning?

I got up. Cats ran. I closed the door.

That’s when the smoke detector went down. And Oliver cried.

Then papers when off a shelf. And Oliver cried.

Then the blinds were played with. And Oliver cried.

I wanted to cry.

Lucky for everyone involved, The Boy had to get up early for the train club’s show here in town. He got up before I had to kill anyone. And I was close.

So close.

***

Kitten Thunder is recovering, slowly, from the trauma of our absence. They still cling. They still cry. But it gets slightly better. And Oliver’s sweet face, which was bloody and gooey from allergies, seems to be clearing up a little bit now that the stress of us being gone is alleviated. Whew.

Kissing Friday

At 4 a.m., Obi was bored. He started his usual bored routine, pulling the cupboard open in the bathroom and – because we installed baby locks the day after he locked Oliver in the cupboard – letting it bumpbumpbump closed again.

“Obi, stop.”

At 4:20 a.m., Obi was bored. BumpBumpBump.

“Obi. Stop.” BumpBumpBump.

He could not be convinced, verbally, to stop playing with the cupboard. I got up, removed him from the bathroom, and shut the door. Now everyone with cats is thinking that THIS didn’t work. You just can’t have closed doors in a house with cats. But, surprisingly, no one cared.

At 4:45 a.m., Obi was bored. He went to his secondary bored action of playing with the blinds over our headboard. After the strings hit me in the head the tenth time I reached up, grabbed the brown kitten, kissed his head and sent him on his way.

At 5 a.m., Oliver was hungry.

At 5:05 a.m., Oliver was hungry.

At 5:10 a.m., Oliver was hungry.

At 5:15 a.m., Oliver was hungry.

At 5:18 a.m., Oliver was hungry.

At 5:30 a.m., Oliver was hungry. He jumped onto my should to see why I wasn’t paying attention to him. “It isn’t time yet,” I said. As he turned to leave, his foot slipped and jammed into my eye. His grey body went thump against the wall and then thump on the floor when instinct made my arm flail and send him flying.

At 5:32 a.m., I had a sore, watering eye. And a lot of guilt.

At 5:35 a.m., Oliver was hungry. This actually made me feel better because it meant I didn’t hurt him.

At 5:42 a.m., I decided I might as well get up because I needed to be downtown at 6:30 a.m., anyway.

At 5:45 a.m., moving slowly and picking up both kittehs to deliver passive-aggressive kisses, I arrived in the kitchen to feed them.

At 6:15 a.m., I was out the door.

There were meetings all day. And there was work to do.

At 4:45 p.m., Oliver and I finally met on the couch for the post-breakfast snuggle. Then there was more work to do.

At 10:13 p.m., I will publish this post.

At 10:17 p.m., I will be in bed. Asleep. And hoping for a better start to tomorrow.

Branching Out

Tuesday, Kitten Thunder let The Boy and I sleep until the alarm went off at 9 a.m. It was, after all, a holiday. But our regular schedule of early morning annoyance resumed yesterday.

And Obi’s new year resolution seems to be to be more involved.

This morning, Oliver was poking me in the nose in the first round of annoyance. It was so warm under the blankets and so cold in the room, though, so my attempt to distract the grey kitten with a snuggle worked like a charm. Cozy under the blankets, Oli was happy to doze off in my arms.

But no. Scoot scoot scoot went something on the toothbrush shelf. I’d moved everything off that was breakable, so I ignored it. Scoot scoot. And something fell to the floor.

“Obi.”

The brown kitten came over to the bed and jumped to the headboard. He used his brother’s head as a halfway point. Then he played with the strings on the miniblinds. I reached up and jabbed him in the ribs.

He ran off. Oliver ran off. The breakfast bell went off.

Good timing.

***

It is Thunder Thursday! My brother’s family has a new member. Meet Cousin Puck’s new brother, tentatively named Bo.

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Thumbs Win

On the final day of the year, Kitten Thunder conspired to get breakfast especially early. It started with Oliver crying from the reading nook. He then came into the bedroom and poked me in the nose. Poke poke poke. When I shoved him off the bed, he returned to crying in the reading nook.

Then he got up on the toothbrush table and started scooting something toward the edge. “Oliver,” little feet pitter pattered to the bed. “Stop.”

Oliver snuggled up to me and started licking my nose. Something started scooting on the toothbrush table. Obi was in on the act. I sat up in bed. “You both better go before someone gets killed.”

Two kittens ran downstairs.

Then they returned.

Meow. Mwrar. Scoot scoot. I looked at the clock and found it was 5 a.m. So I got up. And sat on the couch to watch a movie. Kitten Thunder came in and sat on the rug, considering me. She forgot to feed us. Should we remind her? She seems mad.

They decided to make themselves scarce.

At 6 a.m., when the alarm clock upstairs went off, the kittens got their breakfast. Thumbs for the win.

***

Happy new year to everyone. We wish you happiness and success in all your endeavors this year.

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.