I have an alarm clock. Her name is Halle. Every morning at approx. 5:45am she wakes up.
And then she wakes me up.
I think a rooster would be quieter. She screeches to play with her toys, screeches to watch tv, and sometimes, she just screeches for the heck of it for no apparent reason.
I’ve tried coaxing her back to sleep, rubbing her tummy the way she likes, and just plain ignoring her, hoping she’ll take the hint and go back to sleep.
Sometimes if I’m really lucky, she’ll go back to sleep until 7 or 7:30am. Then it’s back to screeching. By then, her sister Zanna is awake and the two of them combine to create a cacophony that would raise the dead…and have them fleeing the planet!
By that time I give up all hope for a few more zzz’s and stagger into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for them. And even after that, I can’t go back and take a nap. If I’m out of the room while they have food and beverage available to them, they’ll use it to redecorate.
They’ll also spill it all over the table, climb up on top and dance around on it, while kicking it with merry abandon all over the place.
We find dried out chunks of kicked food in the strangest places weeks later.
Maybe it’s their way of preparing to survive a nuclear winter, making sure they have a supply of homemade food jerky tucked away.
It’s still embarassing though, when a guest is visiting and accidentally steps on a desiccated chunk of sausage from over a month ago.