How the Cats Introduced the Morning Meow Order
At Josie and Christopher’s house lived two cats. One was called Button and the other Sock — even though she had never worn a sock in her life.
She stole them, though.
Every morning in that house began the same way.
Dad peeked into the children’s room.
“Good morning, time to get up.”
The comforters didn’t even stir.
A moment later he came back.
“Children, it’s time to get up.”
From under one comforter a hand slid out, felt around for a cuddly crocodile and disappeared again.
The third time, Dad switched on the light.
“Come on, feet on the floor.”
“I can’t,” said Christopher. “I’ve still got a half-finished dream.”
Josie pulled her pillow over her head.
“And I’m in it.”
When they finally got out of bed, more trouble began.
Christopher had one pant leg on and the other empty, because he was checking whether a toy car would fit inside it.
Josie stood at the sink making a beard out of foam.
“I am Grandpa Bubblebeard,” she announced.
“Grandpa Bubblebeard, please brush your teeth,” said Dad.
At breakfast the children discovered that Button was sitting in a box.
That was, of course, an extraordinary event.
Even though he had sat in it yesterday as well.
And the day before yesterday.
And really whenever there was a box anywhere.
“Children, do you have your backpacks ready?” called Mom.
Josie was watching the cat. Christopher was building a bridge out of spoons.
“Did you hear me?”
Nothing.
Mom sighed. It felt as if her words were flying straight up the chimney.
The beds stayed rumpled. The cats’ bowls were empty. In the dishwasher, clean spoons waited for their trip to the drawer.
And by the door someone finally shouted:
“PLEASE JUST GET DRESSED ALREADY!”
Only then did everything start flying. Jackets, shoes, instructions and occasionally a tear or two.
When the door closed, Sock crawled out from under a chair.
“This can’t go on,” she said.
Button nodded.
“Especially those empty bowls. That is a serious household failure.”
That night Sock stole one of Dad’s socks, pulled it on like a tall hat and jumped up onto the kitchen table.
“I hereby announce new morning rules!”
In the morning the children were woken by a gentle tinkling.
Button stood by the beds. He was wearing a bow tie and held a teaspoon in his paw.
“Good morning. Your parents have the day off from reminding. We are taking over morning duty.”
Christopher sat up.
“You can talk?!”
“Yes. And you are getting dressed. Both things are unheard of, so let’s enjoy them.”
A rustling came from the hallway.
Mom was sitting on the carpet building a tower of blocks.
Dad was lying on his tummy under the table.
“Dad, what are you doing there?” asked Josie.
“I’m watching a crumb,” Dad replied. “It looks like a hippo.”
“Will you make us breakfast?”
“In a minute.”
Dad pushed the crumb a little further.
“Now it looks like a hippo on an outing.”
Josie turned to Mom.
“Mom?”
Mom added a red block to the tower.
“Mom, we’re hungry.”
Another block.
“Moooom!”
Mom looked up.
“Sorry, I heard you, but I wanted to finish the roof.”
“But I didn’t know if you could hear me!”
Sock wrote something important on a piece of paper. Unfortunately she couldn’t write, so the result was three scratches and a hole.
“Interesting finding,” she declared.
Meanwhile Button brought breakfast. The rolls were a bit crooked and a little mouse lay on the plate.
“It’s a stuffed toy,” he assured the children. “Decoration.”
After breakfast Christopher wanted to leave.
“Dad, put your shoes on, we’ll be late!”
“Yes, yes.”
Dad picked up a shoe and began driving it along the bench.
“Vroom vroom. Sports shoe. Does two hundred kilometers to the lace.”
Christopher laughed at first.
Then he laughed a little less.
Then he said:
“Dad, seriously. Please.”
And when Dad parked the shoe in a flowerpot, Christopher took such a huge breath that the zipper on his jacket jumped.
Button jingled his teaspoon.
Everything stopped.
“What were you about to do?” he asked.
Christopher looked down.
“Shout.”
“Ah,” said Button. “I know that one. I once yelled at a closed can like that. It didn’t open. But I fell off the counter.”
Dad pulled the shoe out of the flowerpot and sat down next to Christopher.
“It’s no fun having to keep asking someone, is it?”
Christopher nodded.
“But I shouldn’t shout at you either,” Dad went on. “When I shout, I’m sorry afterwards. I want to do better.”
“Me too,” said Mom, and put the blocks aside.
Josie rubbed her sleeve.
“Sometimes I want to go right away. But then I see something interesting and I forget.”
“Of course,” said Sock. “The world is full of interesting things. Once I went for a drink and on the way I spent three quarters of an hour hunting my own tail.”
“Did you catch it?” asked Christopher.
“Unfortunately yes.”
Button unrolled a big sheet of paper.
On it were pictures: clothes, a sink, a comforter, a bowl, a plate and shoes.
“This is the morning path. When you don’t know what comes next, you look here. Dad doesn’t have to be a walking reminder parrot.”
“GET DRESSED! GET DRESSED!” Squawked Sock.
“Thank you for the demonstration,” said Button.
Each child got a clip with their name on it. They could move it along according to what they had already done.
Then together they divided up little household jobs. Everyone would straighten their comforter. Josie would tip a scoop of kibble into the cats’ bowls. Christopher would put the spoons and safe little dishes away from the dishwasher.
“Sharp knives are for grown-ups,” Mom reminded them.
“And boxes are for cats,” added Button. “Since we’re laying down important rules.”
“And what if I want to play?” asked Josie.
Sock pointed to the last picture. It showed a ball.
“When you’re ready and there’s time left, you can still play for a little while.”
“And what about my garage that’s half built?” asked Christopher.
Dad put a little sign next to it:
CONSTRUCTION AWAITING SITE MANAGER. RETURN THIS AFTERNOON.
Christopher nodded. That sounded sensible. Site managers have to go to school sometimes too.
Finally they practiced one more thing.
“Jo, can you hear me?” said Mom.
“Yes, Mom.”
“Christopher, time for shoes.”
“I hear you. I just don’t know where my left one is.”
“Excellent,” said Button. “When you answer, the others know you’ve heard them. And if something isn’t working, they can help.”
They found the left shoe under the table.
There was a stuffed toy mouse inside it.
“Dessert,” explained Button.
The next morning wasn’t perfect.
Josie put her T-shirt on backward.
Christopher stopped at the window, because outside a garbage truck was backing up, and that simply could not be completely ignored.
Dad was already opening his mouth to start reminding them about getting dressed for the fifth time. Then he stopped and pointed at the pictures.
“Where are you on your morning path?”
“At pants,” said Christopher.
He looked down at his bare legs.
“Well — only in my head so far.”
And he went to get them.
When Mom called to Josie, a voice came from the bathroom:
“I can hear you! My mouth is full of toothpaste!”
Which sounded more like:
“I can heah you! My mouf is full of toofpaste!”
But it was an answer.
The beds weren’t made as if for a palace. One comforter looked like a mountain range. Still, it was on the bed and the floor stayed clear.
The spoons made it into the drawer.
Kibble tinkled into the bowls.
And by the door that morning, nobody shouted.
There were even three minutes left to play with the cats.
“That’s strange,” said Christopher, rolling a ball to Button. “Today we managed to play.”
“And I’m still quite cheerful,” Dad marveled.
Sock stretched contentedly.
From then on, something still caught now and then. Someone forgot the comforter, someone got lost in thought over a roll, and someone needed help to get started. But they already knew how to find their way back to the morning path.
Sock, however, added one more rule.
Nobody could read it, because it looked like four scratches and a big hole.
It meant:
Dad’s socks are to be put away in the cats’ bed.
She kept this rule every morning.
Herself.
Without a single reminder.
The End.