That little ^%$#%#$%!

He got me:

Son: Dad, did you see that evil clown that hides from ugly people?

Me: No . . .

Son: [Grin.]

Dad: [Facepalm.]

Cause waking up is hard to do.

I woke up this morning at the crack of 8:30 because my dog is a passive aggressive  ninja.

Normally, I'm up pretty early in the morning, poking my son with a stick and trying to protect vital body parts from his flailing hands and feet, to wake him up for school. Why he can't wake up by himself remains a mystery. It is, however, some kind of tradition in our house that even the dogs and the cat can get behind: I am the house alarm clock.

[My Attorney] will crash into our bedroom like a one-woman-band, with an open laptop, a blackberry, her iPhone, her iPad, a book, a notebook, post-it notes, pens and highlighters, and a metric ton of diet coke. Even though I was lying there in the dark, snoring, she will click on the light, drop her cargo, and open the nuclear bomb loud diet coke can while talking to me as if we've been awake and in a conversation for the last 20 minutes.

[My Attorney]: "Don't forget, I have to get up early tomorrow."

Me: "Brm vrl grlgqk mammpr"

[My Attorney]: "6:30 I guess?"

Me: "Vlm gragg poopy knob creature"

[My Attorney]: "6:35 then, bu be sure I get up."

At 6:35 am the next day my phone's alarm explodes into the theme from Hawaii 5-0 and vibrates itself through the mattress and the floor and the kitchen into the basement. I lean over and gently shake [My Attorney's] shoulder.

[My Attorney]: "No the 9-36 has to be filed in the state's office."

Me: "It's 6:35, dear, you told me to—"

[My Attorney]: "Because we have a deposition with an expert in Ohio."

Me: "Honey, you're talking in your—"

[My Attorney]: (Furious hand waving in a curt manner clearly employing the universal sign for 'shut up drooly, I'm on the phone!')

Waking the girl requires a hazmat suit and a stun stick. I won't even go into it.

This morning I had planned to sleep in. No alarms were set. The kids and [My Attorney] were up until 2am—garunteed to sleep till noon. I was ready to loll.

At 7am, I startled awake by a wet nose in my armpit. I grab a crowbar from the nightstand and pry open my eyes.

My dog, Whiskey, is staring at me.

Whiskey: "Oh, are you up?"

Me: "What the %$#@ &^%$?!, Whiskey?!"

Whiskey: "Nothing. Nothing. But seriously, since you're up, I could use your thumbmanship in opening that back door and letting me out."

Me: "%$#@!#$%"

Whiskey: "That's cool, I totally understand. I can pee in your shoes again."

Ty walks into the room and shoves his nose into my crotch.

Ty: "Hey man."

Me: "Jesus, Ty!"

Ty: "I tried to tell him not to wake you up. But since you are up, you think you might let me out also?"

Me: "&^%$$#@!"

Ty: "Can I smell your butt?"