you're late

You're a day late and a dollar short there, Peepers.  MOUSES!

Okay, so maybe you're not a whole day late.  Maybe it's just an hour.

And maybe you weren't even missin' that dollar, 'cause honestly, I bet you didn't even know I had taken it.

But...

But mouses, woman!  I NEED MY BREKKIES, AND I NEED MY BREKKIES, NOW.

So anyway...

So anyway, sometime durin' the night, all the clocks in Nova Scotia got together and decided to spring forward, or somethin' like that, due to the savin' of' daylight.

Their plan, however, was not without its flaws.  MOUSES!

First of all, Peep #1's clock went on strike.  It didn't even strike on the hour.  Or maybe it never joined the union in the first place.

Hmmm...

Or maybe, the peep never bothered to change it to its new time.  MOUSES!

Secondly - and more importantly - MY clock was fully expectin' the peep's clock to have been reset.

So this mornin', I awoke at my usual time, which - of course - was an hour earlier than normal, on account of my internal tummy clock tellin' me we had entered daylight savings time.  I then trotted down to the kitchen and made myself comfy, while waitin' for the peep to come downstairs to wait upon me.

Well there I sat.

That's where I waited.

That's where I sat and I waited, both at the same time.  You see, multi-taskin' is a speciality of mine.

A WHOLE. HOUR. LATER...

Okay, so maybe it was more like ten minutes.  But ten minutes to a cat is a very long time.  MOUSES!

"Are you hungry?" I asked my tummy.  "Are you ready for brekkies?  Is it not brekkie time, already?"

My tummy, being incredibly wise, answered with a resounding, "YES!"

"I think I should go check on the peep to see if she's up," I said to myself.

And my tummy, agreed.

So off I went to check on the peep.

"Mouses, woman, are you not up yet?"

"It's still early," she said, rolling over and fallin' back to sleep.

"IT'S MORNIN'!" I yelled in her ear, which was easy to do as by this time, I was up on the bed, preparing to smacky-paw ol' Peepers if smacky-pawin' was needed.

"IT'S STILL EARLY," she repeated once more.

"IT'S BREKKIE TIME!" I cried, pointing to the clock on the nightstand.  "Okay, so that clock says otherwise, but my tummy and I know it's wrong."

"Seville," she began, "it's only seven, and it's Sunday morning.  I KNOW the clocks were moved forward last night, but it's still FEELS like seven to you and me."

"Speak for yourself, Peepers, for you do not speak for my tummy and me."

The only thing different is the time on the clock, Seville."

"Peepers, that makes absolutely no sense.  MOUSES!"

"THAT'S because it's seven in the morning.  It's too early for things to make sense."

Well I sat back on my haunches, wondering what I should do next.  Clearly, I had a senseless peep on my paws, and the best way to deal with senseless peeps, is by initiatin' what one calls...

SMACKY-PAW TIME!

Well let's just say, that didn't go quite how I had planned.

MOUSES!

Although...

Although truth be told, the peep did get up.

A little grumpy, perhaps, but hey!  I got my brekkies, and is that not what matters the most?

MOUSES!