8:30. I wake up because a small dog has planted himself on top of my bladder, and I can’t take the pressure any more. “Zorro, sweetheart, could you move please?” I ask, and he does, though he gives me the patented “slitty-eyed look of doom” that only chihuahuas really know how to give. He will get even with me, later. So much later, in fact, that it might not be til after I come home from our trip, but he will do it.
8:55. Miss Cleo, who began the night under the covers at the end of the bed has wormed her way up to the pillows, squeezing her warm furry body between Fuzzy and me. She moves in her sleep, dreaming – chasing something – and her feet hit my lower back as she paddles them. “Cleo, move!” I mutter. She does. Barely.
I sit up in bed, turn on the laptop and try to decide if I’m in a fit state to get out of bed. I chat over Skype with Rana, at whose house we’ll be partying tonight. She’s making a terducken and a whole mess of southern creamed and fried foods. I am bringing cranberry sauce, steamed broccoli, pumpkin pie, and a veggie tray. It will be fun.
9:34. I decide this “awake” thing is over rated. I reset the alarm for 11. I go back to sleep and dream of music.
11:00. Not ready. I make a woozy Fuzzy give us one more hour on the alarm. I can’t reach. There’s a dog in the way.
11:36. I blog about it.
So what was your Sunday morning like.
7:30: I awake, my body curled in it’s favorite “s” shape, one dog curled neatly into each curve of the letter -Magic at my waist, and Molly at my legs. I am a mummy, wrapped in blankets, my faithful sentries at my side, but I feel a sudden sense of panic because I can’t get to the coffee pot. I hear wind howling, and realize the promised blizzard has arrived. I poke my husband in the back.
“Turn off the alarm clock. No church today-it’s a blizzard.”
He obeys, gladly.
We go back to sleep until 11:00. Nice.
My Sunday was spent working for the “man” or Macys…hehe. I have found this year, at least in my area, folks are very needy. I don’t like to make decisions for folks. Shopping is not rocket science. Go in, get what you need, and go. It is that simple. And if you don’t need it, then don’t get it. Anyway, I hope that you and Fuzzy have a wonderful Holiday and a safe trip. By the way, your Fuzzy is a handsome guy. I just thought I would share. Take care dear.