Good Morning to You

Morning. I'm not sure there is much good about it.

I believe it all depends on how one is awoken.

To truly have a good morning, one must slowly climb from slumber, blissfully leaving behind a world of dreams and darkness, to rise and stretch. The alarm clock is turned off before it even comes on and you smile bright and awake and ready for another brilliant day.

This is not how it works around here.

Oh no - that would be asking far far too much.

My morning resembles something closer to The Exorcist combined with Lion Tamers and Barney.

Truly.

It all begins sometime around the ever so unglorious hour of 6am when Monkey Boy decides he is awake. Instead of being that lovely agreeable child and rolling over in his own bed and attempting to return to sleep, he decides that being awake means he should visit his mom's bed. Therefore he exits his room and enters mine, crawling into the bed and promptly draping himself all over me.

I am now awakened from a glorious dream about some hot guy named Nick who's desperately in love with me and proposing.... Before all the good stuff. Sigh.

But far be it from me to begrudge the Monkey space in the bed.

So we all settle down and attempt to return to something resembling slumber.

This would be the cue for Delusional to enter the bed. His thought process reads something like 'Extra human in bed. Extra hand to pet. Must snuggle very close.' So he promptly plops himself down on top of the Monkey and begins the process of licking until the Monkey gives him proper attention and petting that he is certain he deserves.

For the Monkey, proper attention involves picking up the cat and heaving it off the bed.

For me, it means hiding further under the covers and praying for the dreams to resume.

Delusional, in typical I'm a cat and therefore should have my way fashion, repeats the process all over again, certain the first toss off the bed was a complete mistake.

When I'm finally whimpering and begging for a chance to gather a bit more sleep, I collect Delusional and pin him down wherein he proceeds to lick ME until I pet him therefore completing ruining any chance of further sleep as who can sleep with rough cat tongue being slathered hither and yon.

Finally sated, certain both Monkey and myself are awake, Delusional deserts the bed to chase Paranoid who just happens to be strolling through the room. This gives Monkey the chance to drape himself over me, snuggling tightly to my neck to be sure that I don't actually drift off to sleep once more.

Just as I manage to figure out how to sleep while having my windpipe crushed by a limpet Monkey, he boldly announces that he's off to play his DS.

Once more I am completely awake as the occupants of the bed shift until it is just me. Blissful once more, I settle back down, pulling up the covers, eyes closing, dreams of the hunky guy returning as I feel myself fall back into slumber....

And the alarm goes off.

So, explain to me again, why we call it a good morning?