yesterday mister monkey slept through his alarm clock and consequently i had to kick his ass out of bed just in time for his ride. it was pretty funny.
when i wake up, i am immediately alert. pissed off as hell and ravenously hungry, but alert.
when mr. m. wakes up, he is beyond fuzzy. it takes him a full half hour of lying on his back, staring into the middle distance, scratching, to get him ready for the big bad universe. you'd think he'd skip that part in the panic of trying to get out of the house on time. no. not really.
i woke up, glanced at the clock and yelled for him to get up or he'd be late whereupon he jumped out of bed and ran to the kitchen where he stood scratching. then he ran back into the bedroom where he stood scratching. then the bathroom. more scratching. it seems his brain is unable to get started in the morning without the prerequisite amount of scratching. so on it would have gone, kitchen - bedroom - bathroom, scratching - scratching - scratching, if i hadn't finally sat up and told him: put on your clothes. put on your socks. get your lunch. go. go! GO!
he made it in time but it was one of the funniest mornings ever. which, come to think of it, is pretty easy, seeing as mornings aren't usually all that funny, what with them being mornings and all.