Generally, I’m the type of person who wakes up in the morning and gets right out of bed. I don’t lollygag under the covers once I’m awake. I’m not a soak up the glory of the morning and contemplate the day in bed person. It’s fine if you are, we’ll just never sleep with each other. Okay?
I am also not the type of person who gets out of bed before the coffee maker beeps. Yes, I have the kind of coffee maker that makes coffee before I even got out of bed, because I am the pameperdest princess in all the land. (Aside: I love my coffee maker it was the best $38 I ever spent and this was after spending way more on a fancypants one and then a little less on a not-quite-as-fancypants one and having both of them die within nine months of purchase.)
This morning found me up before the coffee and facing a conundrum. Get up and face a world without hot coffee or lay in bed with the lollygagging? I chose lollygagging and put on my glasses so I could futz with Ziggy, my phone.
This is where Paco comes in, literally.
I swear the cat can hear me put on my glasses, because as soon as I did he was there climbing onto my hip and bugging me. He bugs me a lot. He’s a very needy cat and spends roughly 65% of his time either on me or within five inches of me. He’s also smart, because he comes when called and he knows the glasses mean something.
See, when I go to bed at night Paco doesn’t immediately join me upstairs. Perhaps he needs some quiet time alone. I don’t know. I’m fine with it because it’s nice not having a fuzzy cat interfering with my 88-step Minnesota Winter Moisturizing Regime (it’s not really a regime, it just involves slathering my entire body in a thick coating of Johnson & Johnson Bedtime Baby Lotion, or actually, the knock-off Target brand because that shit is expensive. And I am cheap).
So anyway, the minute I tip over into bed, pull the blanket over me, and open a book that damn cat is right there climbing onto my hip (if you haven’t guessed I lay on my side). I swear he can hear me lay down. If he is upstairs in the loft and I decide to lay down on the couch it takes him roughly 28 seconds to come down and lay on me. It’s weird because it’s not like I announce “Well, I guess I’ll lay down on the couch now” and he can hear it. And how much noise does one make when laying down on the couch, or getting into bed? But he knows.
And you know what else he knows? That when I take my glasses off it’s time for him to get the hell offa me. I’ve tested him on this. Sometimes I’ll be sneaky and close the book and put it aside, but he doesn’t budge. I’ve turned off the light and kept the glasses on and he hasn’t budged. But if I take off the glasses he’s outta there like a shot, almost as though he was waiting for me to finish so he could get one with his nightly cat business, whatever it might be.
I was also gonna tell you about how today I decided to wash this old blanket Madison used to sleep on, but then I figured 600 words about one cat is probably enough for today.