A typical morning on Misty’s Planet

Woke up this morning to a lump of fur on my chest and a paw on my nose. Belted out an explicative and committed an act of animal cruelty. Kicked husband’s left thigh while committing said act, and slid onto the ground.

Day commences.

I don’t generally mind Fred’s acts of enthusiastic affection, but I have issues with his paws on my face. Those paws have claws, man, and I don’t want those claws near my eyes/ears/nose/mouth. What if he has a seizure and whips out his tiny pricks of doom?! He could remove an eye! My eye!

Thankfully, he takes my abusive cat-hurling in good humour, and comes sidling back up to my leg for another go-round. As long as I give him food, I can do anything to that bump of orange, and he pretends to love it.

My husband, on the other hand, needs a bit more than a dish of fancy feast to keep him happy.

“YOU JUST KICKED MY LEG!” he shouts from the bedroom. I am in the kitchen, a safe distance away from any revenge kicking he may have in mind. “GO BACK TO SLEEP!” I shout back. Maybe the next time he wakes up, he’ll have forgotten all about the leg kicking incident.

I don’t ever remember my parents having problems like this. They never shouted at each other, and I doubt my mom ever kicked my dad. I doubt she even exploded into a string explicative, as I am prone to doing. She was much too lady like for any of that. I’m not sure if I’m glad I didn’t take after her, or if I’m sad.

Josh (husband) is probably sad. I kick him in the leg, stomach, or groin at least three times a week. I blame the cat. He blames my atomic waking up habits.

“You are an atomic sleeper, Misty. Why did I not notice this before I decided to spend $3000 on a ring? Every day I sleep with you, I wonder if I will wake up in one piece. Sleeping with you is wrought with PERIL! PERIL!!!”

He says it just like that, too, putting more emphasis on the second PERIL!!!

He’s over dramatic.


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