Once again this morning I was grateful I had dogs instead of kids. I mean beyond the standard “my dogs will never deal drugs, watch anime porn or deplete the greater Wichita metropolitan area of it’s itinerant worker population using a crude but effective shiv he formed himself using an empty Schlitz can”.
No, this morning it was a much cruder sentiment. First, let me set up. On the weekends I keep my alarm clock on for the same time it goes off during the week. I don’t necessarily get up with it, but I find that if I wake up once in the morning then it prevents me from sleeping til 3 in the afternoon and wasting my day.
Anyway, the alarm goes off this morning at 7am the way it always does. I lay there for a bit trying to figure out what the fuck is going on and why the hell am I dreaming about delayed shuttle launches. Slowly it seeps in that the alarm is going off, it’s not monday, if I turn it off I can go back to sleep! Huzzah for the shopkeep!
I own a king sized bed, a big bed, I can’t just reach the alarm from where I sleep (sprawled out across the middle) I must roll to it. As luck would have it, Ghengis is quite often between me and the alarm if David isn’t there. I rolled my doughy fatitude over him, hit the alarm and went back to sleep. Ghengis reacted by making his mudgeon noise, stretching and cuddling into my back.
Ghengis won’t remember it at all.
Now, if I had a child who somehow managed to get in my bed and I was naked (which I wouldn’t be if my kid was in my bed, but let’s just go with the model as it stands), if ghengis were a child (a human child) I suspect that they would react in the same way initially and then…
then 20 years later you would find the full grown version of that child lying fetal on the kitchen floor and weeping, a can of Pilsbury biscuit dough exploded on the counter. This sudden trigger of memory will cost me thousands in therapy bills.
Dogs are better than kids!