Cat: Hey. I want under the covers.
Me: Tries to ignore cat, knowing full well that this never works, but holding out hope anyway.
Cat: Hey. Hey! Covers! Lift the covers!
Me: You manage to get under the covers just fine without any help during the day. Go ahead.
Cat: Covers. Now. I can do this all night, human.
Me: Gives up, lifts covers.
Cat: But do I really *want* under the covers?
Me: Yes you do. Now go to sleep.
2-2:06 AM: Cat settles herself.
Second Cat: Hey! How come she gets to be under the covers?
Me: Tries to ignore cat, hoping he will think I’m sleeping and go away.
Second Cat: Paws at my face, claws barely out, just to make his point. I said lift the covers, human!
Me: Fine. Here. Get under the goddamn covers.
Second Cat: But do I want under *those* covers, or do I want to just sit here?
Me: Why are cats?
2:12-2:18 AM: Second cat accepts head scritches and eventually settles under the covers.
Brain: Hey, while you’re awake, remember when you did that really stupid thing ten years ago? Let’s revisit that in excruciating detail, over and over.
Second Cat: Hey! Hey! I need back under the covers.
Third Cat: Horks wetly, somewhere nearby, thus setting up the daily minefield for bare feet.
Second Cat: Deliberately steps on the First Cat-shaped lump under the covers.
First Cat: OMG, someone stepped on me! Grr! Hiss! Whine!
Brain: Hey, while we’re awake, let’s plan out a schedule for the day.
Fourth Cat: Remembers how much she loves the track toy that is in the room directly overhead, and begins to play with great and loud enthusiasm.
Brain: Hey, have you ever thought about what would happen if –
Me: OMG, seriously? Gets up, goes upstairs.
Fifth and sixth cats: Yay! You’re awake! Pet us! Play with us! Hey! Hey! Hey!
Foster kittens: We hear you out there! We are starving! We are lonely! We have not been fed in twenty seven years and no one has ever given us any snuggles EVER in all our tiny little lives! Hey! Hey! HEY!
‘Tis the season for Holidailies.
Ha! My current version of this is Guido, who either 1) must sit between my eyes and the book, and 2) just wants me to lift the covers so he can *look* at the spot for about 45 seconds. Plus the feral poltergeists who rearrange the living room every night.