Enough with the bathing . . .

The other night (really pretty much every night – but this one night in particular) I was sooooooooooo so so so so tired . . . and so after letting the dog out and then back in and dealing with the feeding of the cats – I crawled – or maybe slunk – but definitely didn’t scamper into bed.

Clink to sleep I went. [The “clink” coming from a penny falling out of my change cup – which I usually clutch close to my heart before I go to bed each night . . . and yes – of course I have a “change cup” – who are you to judge anyway?! And besides . . . what do you keep your pennies in anyway??]

So – the dog was to the right of me – which is fine because he sleeps the good sleep of a feather in the snow. And just at that moment – that integral moment where you are on the precipice of a wonderful night of sleep – where your breathing has leveled out and the busy thoughts of the day have slipped to the back of the back(er)most parts of your brain . . . My cat – Spot Elliot lunges into bed (for the uninitiated – he is a 22 pound cat – a big big large cat that makes the entire bed move when he hops in) – but you get used to that – the whole seismic activity minor earthquake thing . . . then he sits there (kind of like a bear – sitting there on his butt) and makes sure that I am indeed about to fall asleep – and then it starts . . . the thing that I will never be able to get used to . . .

Lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – taking a bath – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – making the grossest of noises – lick – lick – lick – lick – am I driving you crazy yet? – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – the whole stupid bed is moving because I am so fat – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick – lick. And then I snapped – and the cat was unceremoniously booted from the bed.

Oh – but of course it doesn’t quite end there – because two more times he jumped back into bed to resume the bath . . . only to find himself on the floor after a quick firm push from my foot. And jeez-o-peet – don’t let me leave out the cute fact that every time that the cat was kicked out of bed – the dog would freak out and jump over me to see where Elliot was running off to . . . utter bedlam . . . utter lack of sleep bedlam . . .