I've always been a light sleeper.
I like to sleep. But I'm also easily awakened.
By a weird thump. Or knock. Or ticking noise. Or a humming sound that only dachshund could hear.
Matt could sleep through the sound of a 747 landing on the back of a fire truck that is screaming down the street to put out the inferno that resulted from the Fireworks manufacturing plant explosion.
No, I'm not exaggerating.
This annoys me.
In the morning, sometimes he'll say something like, "Gee! Sena must have slept really good last night."
"You mean you didn't hear her cry at midnight, 2:15, 3:45, and 5:02?"
Sometimes I have dreams that she is crying and I wake up. I think I could hear her whimper through the sound of a tornado.
But the other night I didn't wake up to the sound of Sena. It was a different sound. A sound I had heard before, but was just as bad, if not worse, than a crying baby.
"Huaaah... Huaah......Hurrrrrghkk...Guuurrrrch.... HUUUAAAAACK!
It is the distinct haunting melody of a cat puking somewhere in the darkness.
Somewhere in the room. Somewhere on the carpet. Barfy old cat puke.
Normally I would switch on the light, jump up and go, "Oooh God! No! Stop it! Dammit, you shit, I told you not to eat that grass! Shit! Shitters! Shitty Kitty! Oh, Jesus Christ amighty..."
Then I would run and get paper towels and Resolve carpet cleaner.
Now I have changed.
I didn't jump up swearing. I have no energy for that anymore.
Instead, I make a mental note. "Try not to step in cat puke when you get up." Then I roll over and go back to sleep.
When I get up in the morning I see that the cat barfed on the landing of the steps to go downstairs. Right in the middle of the landing. And yes, it has a bunch of grass in it. Somehow I was lucky enough to completely dodge it with my bare feet when I got up in the middle of the night to feed Sena.
Matt wakes up and thinks that Sena was such a good baby because he didn't hear her make a peep at all during the night.
I debate leaving the cold cat sick there so that Matt can step in it.