Target Practice

Yesterday was a beautiful day. Lots of sunshine and fresh air. C and I had lunch outside then sat on our back patio drinking mimosas looking through photo albums. Hmmm! Sounds innocent enough but those mimosas mixed with the four or five we already drank at lunch thus becoming much more of problem. At 5:30 we met friends for dinner and since we were at a Mexican food restaurant that doesn’t serve mimosas we switched to vodka. At this point the mimosas and vodka introduced themselves to each other and decided that impairing my better judgment was in order because after we left dinner we went for “one more” drink. You’ve been there and know how this works. People only say “one more” when they can no longer count how many they’ve had up to that point.

So, a bit late for a work night we dragged ourselves upstairs and promptly “fell asleep” (a.k.a. passed out). If you know me you know that I have a case of OCD when it comes to going to sleep without asking C if she set the alarm. I ask every night. Most of the times she will roll her eyes and answer in the affirmative but when she is feeling particularly evil she will say no then laugh as I squirm for five minutes. When I have had all I can take I get out of bed and walk to her side to confirm the alarm is set. Last night however my OCD was temporarily medicated and the alarm remained unset.

At 7:45, fifteen minutes before C has to be at work, the cat started screaming to be fed. Thank God, I thought. He is a hero. Or he was for all of fifteen minutes. C rushed out the door and I went back to sleep. Back to sleep that is until the cat decided I should get up NOW and feed him. He stood in our doorway meowing with everything he has. I tried screaming NOOOO but to no avail. The high pitched kitty speak continued.

Drastic times call for drastic measures. The first time he meowed after I told him NOOOO I threw a pair of C’s jeans at him that were on the bed. He curled up on them and continued to meow. The second time I threw a stuffed animal that for some reason has been in my nightstand since we won it at the rodeo carnival last year. He used it as a pillow and continued to meow. The third time I threw a book of matches at him. These he took as a toy, rolling over on his back, biting them and kicking with his back feet. Not wanting to admit I was awake at this point I put my head back down comfortable in the knowledge that the book of matches would keep him busy while I grabbed five more minutes. Not a chance. He meowed again and this time I threw a tube of chapstick right at his ass. Realizing he was in the direct line of fire for the remaining contents of my nightstand he hurriedly exited our bedroom and began screaming from the hall.