In the olden days, when it was just two kitties in a cottage, the bedroom door stayed open most nights and the Wheezyriders were allowed to snuggle with their mom. Or not. Sometimes there was the eating of her hair or the running across of her face or the crying into her ear until she woke up and gave pats. One time, there was the discovery of her silly bandz and the valiant defeat thereof which was hysterical to watch.
But now, there’s a closed bedroom door and a finding of other places to sleep. That took a while to get used to, yes, but it’s the norm now and it’s ok.
Nap time, however, is still up for grabs, especially when naps happen in parts of the house where kitties generally roam free.
Most mornings, I get up early, turn on the coffee machine, and lay down on the couch. Then Billy jumps up and sprawls across my torso, purring until I pat him and more so afterward. He jumps down and Captain replaces him, making biscuits of my tummy and then sneezing in my face. And that’s all fun for everyone, of course.
Over the weekend, though, Daddy decided to take a nap on the bed in Mommy’s office and that was cause for a free for all, use Daddy as a jungle gym/see what it takes to wake him up or annoy him. I tried to tell Cristian that naps were safer in our bedroom but he was comfy so he stayed and Captain was thus poorly-behaved.