Summertime, summertime, sum-sum-summertime. Summertii-iiiiiime!
Or as I sing it: sleepytime, sleepytime, sleep-sleep-sleepytime. Sleepytii-iiiiiime!
Because you know why? Ya know what? Ya know WHO?? Who didn’t get the memo about sleeping late now that it’s summertime?!?
He still wakes up at 5:45 every morning.
Which means I wake up at 5:45 every morning. There may be some loud-talking (even Mean Mom knows that it’s too early for yelling) “encouraging” the dog to go back to bed.
That never works.
So then the plan becomes keeping the dog up LATE so that he sleeps LATE.
But THAT really only works in the movies. Here in the real world, I find I’m so exhausted from all my running hither and yon to various SPORTS activities — and from something else. Now what was it? What was it again?? Oh! THAT’S RIGHT! FROM GETTING UP SUPER EARLY!!! — that by 9:30 pm I’m falling asleep on the couch and only waking up when my Nook crashes into my mouth for the umpteenth time. [I am NEVER going to get through this Game of Thorns series. (THORNS?? Really, Sweetie?!?) I have three THOUSAND pages left and only two weeks to read them in. And even if I hammer-down on the reading, I’d have to read 200+ pages per day. It’s hard, really hard, to read that much with your eyes closed and your lip all bloody.]
And then? Then the Nook misses my lip and clocks the bridge of my nose instead and I decide it’s not worth it. And I stumble off to bed. Screw the dog and his early-to-bed-early-to-rise nonsense. It would be one thing if it were making ME healthy, wealthy and wise. But it’s not.
So SCREW IT! And the dog. AND the early-morning horse he rode in on.
Because it’s sleeeeepy tiiiiiime [getting sleepy] sleeeeeeeeeeeepy tiiiiiimmmmme [getting VERY sleepy] sleeeeeeeep, sleeeepppppp zzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz