Midnight Tales #6: Midnight Wants Breakfast
A couple of years ago, Mom read me Little House on the Prairie. We read all of the books together. I loved them. And it may sound a little weird, but while we were reading them, I decided I wanted some chores—well, one chore—I didn’t want to overdo it. We don’t have cows to milk, but we do have two cats. We decided I could feed them breakfast. It was pretty easy, once I got used to opening the can. The first time, I pulled the tab off and I couldn’t open the can and I cried. But Mom said it was ok and she practiced with me. She opened that one with a can opener.
Once I got the hang of it, Mom didn’t have to get up so early. I always wake up before her. Well, she says she’s meditating. I don’t know a lot about meditating, but I don’t think it involves snoring. Either way, I didn’t mind feeding the cats. When she fed the cats breakfast, Midnight always woke her up when I got up. For about a week, he still ran into her room and meowed really loudly when I got up. But then he figured out that I was going to feed him, and that’s when the fun began!
In winter, there was no problem, because I got up to get ready for school when it was still dark out. Yuck! Mom wanted to home school me, but I really wanted to be with other kids and I guess that was the price I had to pay. Plus, she’s a writer and works from home, and when would she have time to work if I was there all the time? Or else I’d have to be quiet and let her work which is BOR-ING. I like to talk. A lot. Although I’m usually quiet in school when we’re supposed to be.
Anyhow, as the days got longer and it was light when I woke up, Midnight started waking me up because he wanted his breakfast. At first, he meowed, like he did for my Mom. Mom told me that I can’t feed him when he does that because then he would think he was in charge, so I put a pillow or my arm over my ear and tried to go back to sleep until it was time to get up.
But then Midnight got creative. I guess it runs in the family! He’s tried a lot of different ways to get me to feed him.
The first one was knocking things off of my nightstand. He’s not tall enough to see what’s up there. He reached up there with his front paws and knocked down whatever was near the edge. One day, I woke up because I heard a thud near my head. I sat up to see what was going on and Midnight started meowing. I saw my watch on the floor right next to him. “Cut that out,” I said. I laid back down and turned away, because I wasn’t going to let him be the cat in charge. Soon I heard a loud crash and then a splash. He knocked my owl mug with the lavender-chamomile tea I didn’t finish last night onto the floor. Luckily, the mug didn’t break. It was my favorite. But I was mad. “I’m not going to give you breakfast at all today,” I told him. But of course I did. And I usually remembered after that to keep my stuff in the middle of the table where he couldn’t reach.
Next he started scratching on the side of my mattress. It was annoying, but not as loud as stuff crashing to the floor or even meowing, so it was easy to ignore.
A few times, I woke up and he was staring at me with his face right next to my face. I could feel and smell his stinky cat breath on my face and as my eyes focussed, there he was staring right at me. I love my kitty, but it was kind of creepy.
And a few other times, I woke up because he was combing my hair with his claw. That was really weird. And kind of funny, too. And it felt pretty good.
Mom wanted me to keep him out of my room, but I didn’t think I could sleep without that big fuzzy hunk of cat. Plus, he would probably have just scratched at the door and meowed anyhow and then no one would have gotten any sleep.
But I seriously considered it when he peed on the plastic bag in my closet that had my gym clothes in it. I woke to the sound of running water and then I smelled it. It was really disgusting. It was the only time I remember hearing my Mom say a swear word. She cleaned it all up with some special stuff that removed cat smell. That only happened once, thank goodness. And I never leave plastic bags on the floor anymore.
The latest thing he’s doing is slamming my bedroom door. It really startled me the first time. But now I leave a shoe in the door so it can’t shut all the way, even though he still tries. I saw him do it once. He stood on his back legs and pushed his front legs against the door. I think he must be a smart, and creative, cat to come up with all these ideas. But when I get annoyed at getting woken up by my crazy cat, I think about Laura Ingalls and all the work she did all the time and it doesn’t seem so bad.
Here’s another Midnight story. This story is based on things things Midnight tried to wake me up for breakfast. In the last few months, he’s mellowed out a doesn’t always try to wake me up. It seems strange after all these years–he’s 14 years old and has been working on getting an early breakfast for about 12 of them.
Anyhow, I hope you enjoy the story.
Thanks for stopping by!