A few weeks ago I decided that it would be good for all of us if Rumble got a bit of a run in every night before bedtime. What’s spilled from that decision is the following bedtime routine:
First, there’s a bit of hopeful chirping as the evening winds down. “Are you going to bed now? How about now? Now?” This is, in fact, an improvement over his snoozing all evening on the bed, resting up so he can wake me at three in the morning for a snuggle, get threatened with Squirty Bottle, and stampede in terror over Kelly’s sleeping form.
When bedtime finally comes, I have a little snack and get out of my clothes, all while Rum lurks about impatiently, with an air of “You’re not gonna forget, right?”
I then drag the peacock feather around our bed while he chases and pounces and tries to kill and kill again.
Meanwhile, Minnow, who’s realized that Fun is being Had, sits in the kitchen sending Big eye vibes of Hope through the wall.
Once Rumble’s wiped out, I leave him with a feather to gnaw and close him in the bedroom so he can’t beat the crap out of her for getting involved. This is necessary because a) he’s not dumb; b) Minnow playtime is a high-volume, impossible to miss scrabble of claws on the faux-hardwood floor. I take the other peacock feather and set Minnow on a mad, looping, acrobatic feather chase in the kitchen (I was using a laser pointer to run her around, but I dropped it and it died, and I haven’t replaced it yet.) Anyway, this goes on until…
Rumble starts crying piteously at the bedroom door and Kelly has her face washed and jammies on.
I am hoping to get video, but of course they tend to stiffen up when the camera comes, usually in an attitude of “Oh, did you want a close-up of what’s right under my tail?”
