Last night, I was all flopped over on the bed in my jammies with Pixel curled up on my feet watching Friends on TV. It was dark, my husband was half asleep, Pixel was zonked. Dante had abandoned us, I assumed he went out to the living room to sleep on his pillow and blankie.
So. A commercial break came on, so I leaped out of bed to get to the bathroom. I startled Dante, who was in fact under the bed, he charged out from under the bed at me, ran into my legs, and scared the holy jehosephat out of me. Pixel was disturbed and upset, my husband laughed his bum off, I felt awful, and felt so bad and spent so long comforting Dante that by the time I left and came back from the bathroom break I'd missed a few minutes of the show.
And people wonder why I always want the lights on!
In case you were wondering.
