Since the boys moved out of their cribs into open beds we've had a little bit of an issue with the cats. They want to be where their humans are, and they want to roam freely from human to human in the very long period after I turn the lights out in the boys room but before I join Dane in the kitchen to help with the nightly clean up. Many perfectly good bedtimes have been messed up by River or Simon (usually Simon) abruptly banging the bedroom door open and landing with a self-satisfied thump in the beam of lamplight that is suddenly lying across Duncan's quilt.
The arrival of a cat starts a string of commentary that ping pongs back and forth between the beds until everyone is wide awake -- except Simon, who usually finds a way to sprawl comfortably on my face and go to sleep. "Oooo! Simon came in!" "He opened door!" "Mom has real Simon!" "I have toy Simon!" "Cats have ears!" "And whiskers!" "He's laying on my bed!" "He's purring!" "He's big!" "Mammaw's cat is little!" "I pet him!" "I pull his tail!" Etc.
River tends to slink in more quietly than Simon, then crouch under the bed. To wit: "OoooohhH! RIVER came in! She is a girl! She has no penis! She is hiding! She is grey! River! She rivs?"
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