A. Marie Silver

A. Marie Silver

Diary of a Cranky Cat – My Morning Routine

Dear Diary,

I feel like I should have a clipboard with me when I embark on my day.  That way I can make notes on changes in the routine as well as document my observations.  These written accounts could be necessary some day, in case anyone decides I didn’t do my job.  I ALWAYS DO MY JOB!!!!!

5:00 AM

This morning I began my day as usual by climbing up on Momma’s chest and purring very sweetly.  “Momma,” I said softly. “Momma? Are you awake yet?  It’s time to get up and feed me and Little Missy.  We’re very hungry.”  Momma responded in her usual manner by shoving me off the bed, rolling over and going back to sleep.  RUDE!  I had no other choice but to sit on the floor next to Momma and wait for her to wake up.

6:00 AM

Boy-Dadda got out of bed and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.  Little Missy stood outside of the door and meowed until he opened the door up.  She went inside and continued meowing at him, reminding him that we still hadn’t been fed yet.  What is with these people? 

7:00 AM

Boy-Dadda completed his morning beautification routine and left the bedroom.  Little Missy and I raced behind him, following him closely as I then observed him putting kibbles in our dish. At long last, we had been fed.  Little Missy forgot herself and started eating before it was her turn.  I have seniority – therefore, I ALWAYS eat first and Little Missy has the daunting task of waiting for me to finish.  Clearly she needed a reminder; so I hit her, shoved her aside and began eating.


I came back upstairs and bathed myself while waiting for Momma to wake up.


I listened to the Little Thing via the baby monitor, stirring in his crib, making his sounds of pontification.


Sleeping Beauty finally decided to get out of bed.  It’s about time! I have things to do I don’t have time to wait for Momma to decide to join the rest of the world.


I escorted Momma into the bathroom where she sat down and began her morning business.  I laid at her feet allowing her to rub my belly.  When I decided I had enough, I snapped at her to tell her it was time to stop rubbing my belly.  “Well somebody’s a grumpy butt,” Momma said.

“You’d be grumpy too if you had to wait two hours for someone to put kibbles in your dish,” I responded.


Momma and I went into the nursery to rescue the Little Thing from his crib.  He smiled at Momma.  Momma smiled at him.  I rolled my eyes. 

Momma placed him on his changing table and took off his diaper.

“What color is his poop today?” I asked.  This is why I think I should have a clipboard for taking notes.  It’s important to document this stuff.

“He didn’t poop,” Momma replied.

“What do you mean he didn’t poop?” I was confused.  He always poops in the morning.  It’s his job to poop.  I’ve come to expect that he’ll poop. 

“He didn’t poop this morning,” Momma said. “He’ll poop later.  Right now it’s just a wet diaper.”

“Okay,” I began. “The problem is that he’s supposed to poop and then you take his diaper and dump the poop in the toilet and I follow you while you do this.”  Momma and Boy-Dadda use cloth diapers.  I’ve heard some people use disposable diapers.  I have no opinion on either cloth or disposable diapers and even if I did, I’m sure I wouldn’t be asked anyway.  I wasn’t asked when Momma got married and I wasn’t asked if I wanted a Little Thing, before they brought him home.  “Momma, this whole lack-of-poop thing has really thrown me.  I feel like we’re skipping a step.”  I walked over to the changing table and looked up.  “Poop, Little Thing.  Poop now!  It’s your job!”  The little thing turned when he saw him and smiled.  I’m glad he’s amused.  My whole morning is now officially chaos.

“He’ll poop when he wants to poop,” Momma said.


Momma and I took the Little Thing downstairs and I supervised Momma while she buckled him into his seat.  “Are you fastening him in?” I asked.


“Are you making sure the straps are really tight?” I asked again.

“Yes, Gwennie.” Momma then placed a plastic tray across the chair, pulling the Little Thing’s arms up so they wouldn’t get stuck underneath.

“Good,” I said.  “I wouldn’t want him to fall out because if he did and he hurt himself, that would just wreck my morning.”

Momma looked over at me, “And here I thought you were going to say something genuinely nice.”

“Are you finished yet?” I continued. “Because you still have to fix him a bottle, then fix your coffee and then feed him his solid stuff while simultaneously surfing through various apps on your iPad.”

“I’m getting to it,” Momma replied.


I watched Momma drink coffee with one hand and hold the bottle for the Little Thing with the other hand.


The Little Thing is eating store-bought peaches for breakfast.


Momma is on the phone with Grandma.  She is also working on her second cup of coffee and the Little Thing is in his bouncing thing making loud sounds.  I’m irritated. 


I’m off duty.  My morning routine is complete.  I’m exhausted and I’m going to take a nap.


Puff ball is annoying me.  I think I’ll smack him around for a little while before I take my nap.

See Diary?  I have a rough, horrible life and I need a clipboard so I can make a note of these unfortunate irregularities.

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