Sunday, March 26, 2006

Adventures in Bed-Making

I know I write way too much about my cats - I'm totally that person who thinks everything their pet does is fascinating to everyone else, which is way worse than being that person about their children, because children are at least people - but my cats are just so cute! Also, I don't get out enough, so they're frequently my primary source of entertainment.

Orange Cat has a very specific daily schedule of naps. The naps move in an orderly progression, involving favorite chairs, sunny spots on the floor, and family laps. The naps culminate in the long, overnight nap, where his people nap with him for 8 straight hours. Orange Cat is always terrified he's going to miss this king of naps, so when he decides it's about our bedtime, he sits watchfully at the top of the stairs so we can't sneak past him. (We're real sneaky, you know.) If I disrupt this nap schedule, by sitting on the wrong couch cushion, or by going to bed at the wrong time, or closing the curtains to watch a movie and thus blocking out the sun, he gets really. miffed. And yowls about it. Orange Cat has a hard life.

Yesterday, I had to wash the bedding. I like laundry as a rule - you start with dirty clothes and two hours later you have a whole new wardrobe! - but I loathe washing bedding. Some of this I attribute to it being my job on family vacations to make beds. We'd stay in condos with my entire extended family, and there were only a few girl cousins, so my oldest female cousin and I were deputized to make bed after bed after bed. She was older, faster, and more dextrous than I, so I always got stuck trying to pull that fourth corner down on the fitted sheet. But mostly bedding is heavy when wet, awkward to handle, hard to fold by yourself, and just not that interesting. Plus the comforters and mattress pad take forever in the drier, and no matter how often you wash the fleece blankets, cat hair does not come off them.

But I washed the bedding anyway, and it took much longer than it should have because I kept instructing my husband to listen for the buzzer and check the dryer to see if the mattress pad was dry yet. This was clearly an error on my part, because my husband, who claims to have the alertness "of a superspy" (no, I made that up, but he does claim to be "like a cat" in his alertness), could sleep through armageddon and routinely fails to notice when I leave the room, if he's reading a book or something. I'll announce, "I'm going to go check my e-mail and start dinner," disentangle myself from our snuggle, and leave the room, and twenty minutes later, he finishes a chapter, sits up with a startle, and asks, "Eyebrows? Where'd you go?" ALERT AS A CAT, I TELL YOU! I'll call home six times and not reach him, and when I arrive at home, wondering if he suffered a fatal heart attack or was kidnapped by pirates, he says, "Oh, the phone never rang," and there are six messages from me on the machine. O-bliv-i-ous.

At any rate, he was in the room next to the world's loudest dryer buzzer, and never heard it, so it took much longer than it should have because I was upstairs making dinner and watching basketball while he was in the basement allegedly paying attention to the laundry, so when I went up to bed, only the mattress pad was on the bed. I brought the sheets and all the rest up with me to make the rest of the bed, but Orange Cat, who was staking out the staircase so I couldn't sneak into bed without warning, was having none of it. He leapt up on the naked bed and curled up in his usual spot, purring like crazy. I then proceeded to try to make the bed. Every time I reached for him to put him on the ground for just a minute or two, he'd elude my grasp and dance off to another corner of the bed (which is too wide for Eyebrows, in her shortness, to reach all the way across). So I ended up making the bed around the cat, who clearly could not understand what my problem was. "The bed is here and it is bedtime!" he was clearly yowling. "Why do you not come sleep on it? What is this fussing with fresh-smelling fabrics?"

Still, the bed got made, and while it was a bigger hassle than normal bed-making, it was actually more entertaining than usual with the cat desperately trying to nap and escape me at the same time. And when I crawled into my fresh, crisp sheets and curled up fetal-style on my side, Orange Cat made a beeline for the puddle of warmth created by my body and flopped down against my belly, purring like crazy. "Thank God you finally came to your senses and decided to nap," he purred. "Took long enough."

Mr. McGee came to bed some hours later. He got involved in what he was doing, and totally missed the part where I told him four times I was going up to bed.

1 comment:

Star said...

*L* Well, I for one like hearing about your cats. But I can be one of Those People too sometimes, so maybe I'm biased.

Libby routinely "helps" me make the bed. She jumps up and carefully inspects each corner of the fitted sheet as I put it on. Then she alternately tries to run from and pounce on the flat sheet. When the comforter comes out, though, she decides it's bigger than she is and runs off to the next room. I've given up on trying to get her to stop; she's just going to keep doing it, and she's not hurting anything, so... *shrug*