It’s morning and Mia is barking. No one has fully been able to explain the time change to her, and all of my efforts are overshadowed by her overwhelming enthusiasm for morning playtime. Still in a bit of a fog from my cold, I ultimately placed Mia in her crate and got back into bed to snag some more sleep. To curb disturbances, I keep a spray bottle at the head of my bed, and this time I placed it in my hand and hung it over the side of the bed to be in Mia’s direct line of vision.
Being in a semi-conscious state, I’m not sure how long it was until I heard some snickering in the corners of my mind. I opened one eye to see Leisel sitting in the living room watching my dangling arm sporadically squirt at my disruptive dog while the rest of my body stayed utterly dead to the world.
“I’m like a ninja,” I explain into my pillow. “I can be dead asleep but my honed reflexes allow me to jump up and squirt Mia or George with speed and precision.”
“You look more like spaghetti from here.”
I didn’t say I was a particularly active ninja.