Dickens looked up at from his quiet repose with a quizzical look as if to say, "Not my problem." Mom just wanted to chat. At 4 AM. I. Do. Not. Chat. At. 4 AM. Ditto 3 AM. I don't know my name at that hour.
Mom: JD!!!! JD!!!!JD!!!!
Me: Mom I'm coming, I just have to dash to the bathroom.
Mom: What? What? What?
Me: I'll be right there.
Mom: JD!!!! JD!!!!JD!!!!
Me: I'LL BE RIGHT THERE, I'M IN THE BATHROOM!
Mom: What? What? What?
Me: (rushing to take care of business) I'LL BE RIGHT THERE!
Mom: Mom: What? What? What?
Me: I'll be right there.
Mom: JD!!!! JD!!!!JD!!!!
Me: I'LL BE RIGHT THERE, I'M IN THE BATHROOM!
Mom: What? What? What?
Me: (rushing to take care of business) I'LL BE RIGHT THERE!
Mom: Mom: What? What? What?
This dialogue goes on ad infinitem until I present myself to her looking like something from the movie "Zombies". She might require a drink or to query me on a dream she's had that I honestly can't track. This little early morning episode concludes with her asking to go back to sleep. After tucking her in, I dream of catching another hour's sleep.
I drag myself back to the bedroom only to be greeted by a wide awake Dickens who needs a short walk of his own. I crawl into my clothes, snap on his harness, and off we go. As we re-enter the house, I drop his leash. As it drops onto the carpeted floor I hear a question from the Mom's bedroom, "What was that?"
Every day is Groundhog Day-sleep optional.
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