Luck

Someday I'm gonna murder the bugler,
Someday they're gonna find him dead:
I'll mutilate his reveille, I'll stamp upon it heavily
And spend the rest of my life in bed;
And then I'll get the other pup,
The one who gets the bugler up,
And spend the rest of my life in bed.
~ Dad's Dishwashing Song

One assumes it was actually a "Dad's Army Song," but I didn't know Dad when he was in the Army, so to me it's a Dishwashing Song.

***

Something awakened me. Possibly the orange cat burrowing in my neck, rubbing his head against my jaw. Anyway, I awoke and rolled out of bed, stepping squarely into fresh, cold, wet, cat puke. 

Laughing and limping to the bathroom, I switched on the light. Oh. My. Yikes. There, in the mirror: a face only a mother could love.

"Lucky for me," I said aloud, "I AM a mother."

Next I hauled the garbage out to the garage*, only to discover it had rained: the porch was wet and I was still barefoot. So maybe it'll rinse off any residual cat vomit, right?

By now the Bad Kitty, Myfanwy, who has been banished to the basement, had begun her song. It really is an awful song, nothing at all like "Meow." More like "BrrrrrrrrrWAAAAHHHH! BrrrrrrrWAAAAHHHH!" So what could I do but burst into song myself:

Someday I'm gonna murder the kitteh
Someday they're gonna find her dead.

 

 *Two words that don't rhyme

Comments

[Little Sister]

Oh how I hate to get up in the morning!
Oh how I hate to get out of bed!

[Uncle Al]

You probably already know this, but the song is by Irving Berlin, written in 1918.