A "rude awakening" if even there was one....

I was up 'til late. Or really early, depending on how you like to divide your day up. It was not by choice, really, as my previous posts have alluded to. Oh owie-induced insomnia, what I would do to you if you were a person and I could kick your ass!

But whatever; finally I clamoured up into my beautiful chocolate wooden nest and proceeded to fashion the perfect conditions for a dreaming session - your basic fetal position, with the addition of R.'s arms around my waist, a $200 pillow under my noggin {worth every penny, I kid you not} and the ideal ratio of duvet and cool air against my body.

And then like 10 minutes later, his alarm went off and the whining commenced {that was all me. He bounds out of bed like a gazelle. Do. Not. GET. It.}. But, like the trouper I am, I doggedly pursued the REM state and I am happy to report that unlike Bush's naval propaganda, this really did result in "mission accomplished".

Until.

8:07a.m.

Roughly 2 hours of total sleep, over the course of a 10 hour period. {I'm just saying}.

When a furry ball of "awwww" broke through my gauzy veil of Zzzzzz and landed on the corner on my pillow.

I half opened one eye. Kind of.

Two hazel saucers of excitement peer back at me.

I fished a hand out from under the sea of covers and clumsily proceeded to try and lovingly connect with the hairball of joy, a.k.a Rocky Balboa {Shut. Up. The pound named him. I just live with him and clean his poo box}. His purring would have deafened a hearing aid, which prompted me to try and reason with him:

"Mommy's seeping {I was too tired to pronounce the "h"}. Shhh, mmmkay? Later? Mommy will love you later??" { the end of the sentence rose in more of a plea than an endearment}.

Minutes later, I hear relative silence and feel his tiny body curl up next to my left arm, and I thought 'Smart boy! When you can't beat em, join em', & I proceeded to slowly drift away...aaaawayyyy....

And then! I woke up again because this time? This time the cat was licking the deodorant off of my underarm which is a sensation difficult for even a wordy s.o.b. like myself to adequately describe. Easily the most tickled I have ever felt.

And, I was up.

So technically, he won that battle {but not the war, my furry friend, not the war!}.

Also, he spent the next good half hour going around like he had peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth. {which if you think is funny with a dog, you ain't seen nothing yet!}. Karma. She doesn't discriminate between species!

Because although it says it's vanilla chai scented, the word flavoured appears nowhere on the packaging!

And that's why illiteracy hurts.