This morning, SB and I woke up at 5:55 am to a scraping noise coming from the living room. And when I say scraping, I mean furniture being pushed around in a very very noisy way. It quickly dawned on me that both the 'furniture moving'-sized folks that lived in our home were laying in this very bed, so who the F*%# was moving furniture in our living room?
Cat or Kid?
I put my money on the kid. Those cats are lazier than me.
The kid hunch made me bound out bed and down the hall to see what was going on. I'm kind of surprised at that energetic reaction considering (a) you guessed it - I'm lazy and (b) I'm sick. But no, I bound out of bed knowing full well who was making that noise. Because she isn't the type to redecorate our place as a thank-you for wiping my butt surprise, I knew she had to be going for something hidden and forbidden.
I came out to find Gigi moving a chair from the table. She was pushing it through the kitchen towards the fridge.
As I stood there, sort of realizing how crappy I actually felt and sort of confused, I asked her what she was doing. She explained that she wanted to get her stuff out of the freezie. Stuff in the "freezie"? Hey, remember the great nutella incident of Thursday past? Yes well, in the frenzied rush to get her to the bathroom for cleaning before nutella suddenly appeared everywhere, I tossed the jar into the freezer. It is the last frontier of places in the kitchen that she couldn't reach - until now. I'm kinda surprised Gigi remembered the stuff was in there.
Obviously I put a stop to it, explained we were all supposed to be still sleeping and for the love of peaches, let's all go back to bed. She cried a little, and then in one non-stop statement explained that she didn't want to sleep anymore, and asked who puked on the couch. The last part caught me off guard. Five years ago I would have assumed it was me but these days, "it's all fun and games until..." nights are few and far between.
Anyhow, it was one of the cats that puked. What else is new. The fact that he did it on the couch upsets me greatly, but what upsets me more, is the fact that I now need to clear out new Gigi-Proof hiding spots for food things, and institute a no furniture moving clause into our morning agreement.
In case you are wondering, our morning agreement has been completely ignored by one party for the last three years, one month, and fifteen days (plus eight hours and forty minutes, but who's counting). Some days I can't wait until she a surly teen who wants to sleep in. I'm going to eat those words - big time.