It’s 6:20 AM and I’m trying to get in a few more minutes of shut eye before the snooze goes off. Dashiel hops up on the bed up near my pillow to purr like a motor and rub his face on mine. This is his morning ritual. He has no respect for snoozing between alarms, no appreciation for staying warm under the covers. All he cares about is getting his wet food.
I’m scratching his face, still somewhat asleep, trying to placate him so I can stay in bed just a few moments more. He walks onto my chest, standing on all fours and puts his butt in my face. I reached out to his hind legs simultaneously thinking to gently push him off me and also singing in my head “pantalones, pantalooooones, panTalones” because: a) I’m a weirdo and b) whenever I see his hind legs I think that to myself (Dumpling’s the one who pointed out that Dash looks as though he’s wearing pantalones or, what some might say look like “Hammer Pants” but I just took it to an extreme in my own head, as per my usual).
As I’m singsonging “pantalones” in my head and pushing on his hind legs, something warm squirts out on me. ON MY FACE! Something warm from Dashiel’s backside is on my face. Ewwwwww! I leaped out of bed, ran to the bathroom and proceeded to scrub my face and scour my hands like I was a doctor preparing for surgery. I could still smell the muskiness of it. Gag! I went back to my room to pull off my sheet and pillow case where there were wet spots from his spray and then, because I was sure I could still smell it in my hair, I jumped in the shower to wash my hair (twice) and my face, again.
I’m very sensitive to smell. And easily grossed out, apparently. That wasn’t exactly the kind of wake up I prefer. For the record: Dash’s new nickname is ‘Squirts.”
Oh! And later today I get to go to court to fight a speeding ticket. I’ve never done that and I’m a bit nervous, truth be told. But at least I won’t smell like cat spray when I address the Judge.
I’m ready for Friday, people. Sincerely.
(Tomorrow is Reveal Your Blog Crush Day! And yes, if you can’t just pick one, go ahead and make a harem out of it. Don’t forget to write your posts!)
“Every rain makes its way into somebody’s song/As a way to relieve the pain/This one is calling me out of my shelter/To face the truth/But I still love/Searching for my intuition/Even though I recognize/Myself in all these silver walls/But as I star they all break me down. . . ” -Still Love, Holly Brook