The Man has been home the last few mornings, so I decided to spread myself out, so to speak. I figured, "Hey, he has thumbs, he can open a can of Stinky Goodness. Let's get him up instead!"
It seems, however, the Man has less appreciation for having a cat flop down on top of his chest and walk across his face in the morning than the Woman does. But he did get up, after a time.
I don't know what People think the deal is. They want us to sit in their laps, but when we feel like plopping down on top of them it's "No, I want to sleep. No, it's not time to eat." Or worse, "Hey, I can't breathe with you sprawled across my face!"
Hey, get up and feed me, and you can breathe all you want.
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