This morning I woke up with a cat laying on my feet.
“What the?”
“I CAN’T MOVE!”
“Oh, it’s just Bukowski…”
“Is that even comfortable for him?”
“He looks comfortable, I mean he’s all curled up.”
“This isn’t so bad.”
“I could get used to this.”
“Just wait until winter rolls around.”
“Yes, this will be great for my feetcicles.”
“In winter…not so much June.”
Half an hour later…
“I think I want to lay on my other side.”
“Oh well, I’ll manage on this side.”
“I don’t have any feeling left in my hand. Oh, I’ll just flick my fingers until the blood starts flowing.”
“Okay, my hand is still alive.”
“Damn it! Now I have to pee.”
“He’s so cute! I can’t wake him up.”
“Then he’s going to want food and I won’t be able to lay down in peace.”
“On the other hand, I really have to pee.”
“I hate being woken up.”
“Maybe Bukowski doesn’t mind…”
Ten more minutes pass…
“MAKE WAY!” ***Flips the blankets off***
“MAKE WAY! THIS ISN’T A DRILL!”
LoLL 