Early this morning;, sometime around 4:30-5:00, our cat decided that she couldn't stand being in this house one second longer and set up an incredible MROOOOOWing campaign to be let out.
I gave thought to letting her out and never, ever, ever letting her in again. And maybe I gave thought to some creative but not remotely kind things to do with her before tossing her out.
Sweetpea, who is a sucker for any animal, calmly got up and, with a smile and happy pat, opened the door and let her out. When she got back up the stairs, the Boy was waiting for her. With a smile and a happy pat, they greeted each other and disappeared into his room to play.
They play together every morning actually, a couple of morning birds in a house of slow waking parents. The Boy is usually the first up, and as soon as he was out of a crib and in a bed we taught him to turn on his light and shut his door and play quietly. His usual wake-up is somewhere around 6, sometimes closer to 5:30, occasionally closer to 6:30. Sweetpea wakes around 6:30 and knows he'll be up so slips right in to join him. This morning was unusual only in that they were up so much earlier than the norm.
I admit it, as I drifted back to sleep I was sure the next time I awoke it would be to fighting as those two would surely get sick of each other, but when I next awakened they were still at it, deep in their imaginary world that crosses Webkinz with Shining Stars with MarioParty with Littlest Pet Shop with whatever else crosses their incredibly flexible minds. I listened to the happy chatter for a while and then reminded them that it was time to get ready for school.
As they got ready they moved at warp speed, calling coversational tidbits to each other down the hallway from their respective closets. As soon as Sweetpea was dressed she was back in her brother's room, knowing that he cares not one whit for modesty and can play and dress at the same time. Somehow they moved downstairs as one, still in character (even if their character changes so fast sometimes that I wonder if they have a psychic connection to keep up with each other) and kept it up as I got breakfast ready. They moved to the breakfast table, still playing. At this point the Boy seemed to be a Zumbuddy and Sweetpea was a Shining Stars kitten. My eavesdropping got a little better at this point and I was delighted to hear the following part of their conversation:
SP: I'm going to watch a Shining Star movie tonight, would you like to join me?
B: No thanks! I watched a Shining Star movie once and it was so sad, and much too scary for me.
SP: Really? I love Shining Star movies! What was this one about? Why was it scary?
B: There was a killer shark on the loose and it ate all the Zums and all the Webkinz and all the Shining Stars. No one could escape! It was terribly unhappy. Well, it was a happy ending for the shark, but not for anyone else.
And this is why children rock.