Every once in a while, one of us sleeps in the guest room to get a night's rest of uninterrupted sleep. It is easier when I do it cause Johnathan takes more stuff to bed with him than a normal person takes on long trips (i.e. computer, 8 DVD's, phone, phone charger, Kool-Aid, trail mix, condoms [you know, just in case], Benadryl, Advil, and sometimes a bowl of ice cream), but Johnathan sleeps better in there because of . . . the cat. Apparently he (the cat) needs me. He (the cat) can't sleep without me. And when that guest room door is closed and he (the cat) can't find me, he (the cat) develops suspicions.
Last night was my night. Johnathan was watching the 2-hour season finale of 24, and I just ached for bed because my darling angel of a kid got up at 5AM that morning. So at 8:30 I was snuggled all warm in the bed. At 10:30, he (the cat) was banging on the door. And even though he (the cat) is a cat, when I say "banging," I literally mean "banging." He (the cat) takes his paw and just swats at the door which of course shakes it in its door jam, and the resulting noise is most definitely a "bang." I open the door and swat back at him in hopes he (the cat) will leave me alone. Unfortunately, opening the door confirmed his suspicions and doomed me to a night's rest of oft-interrupted sleep. Still I persisted, through the door bang's of midnight, 3 AM, 4:30 AM, and 5AM. But once the 7AM one came, (and I realized I had probably stored up enough pee for a 30-second long stream) I got up. He (the cat) was absolutely ecstatic. He (the cat) followed me into the bathroom (for a 22-second pee) frantically weaving in and out of my legs. When I crawled into bed with my husband, he (the cat) jumped purring onto my chest and refused to budge until the baby started to cry.
He (the cat) makes me feel very necessary to the world.
Comments