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Our cats are bad. I don’t think they’re that much worse than other kitten pairs, but lately they seem to be on a mission from hell.

We don’t let our cats into the bedroom at night because that is their playtime. When we get home from work, they can barely lift their sleepy heads to blink at us, but for some reason, they start going nuts around midnight. When I mean nuts, I mean chasing each other throughout the apartment and jumping on and off any surface that blocks their paths, including each other.

I took Tuesday off work. In my half-awake state I told Danny to leave the bedroom door open when he went to work. I was under the delusion that the cats would come cuddle up next to me. Oh how wrong I was. Around nine, they knocked over the trashcan. For the next hour, they jumped on and off the bed, sniffed my face, peeked out the window and messed with the blinds. After a while, I realized that they had won and grudgingly got out of bed.

On my way to work the next morning, I ran back into the bedroom to kiss Danny goodbye and apparently did not shut the door all the way. Danny was awakened by one of the cats knocking his full water cup onto his face. The cat immediately sensed the danger and retreated under the bed. Two scratches, an elbow rug burn, and much cursing later, Danny extracted the cats from the room. Now, wasn’t that a nice way to wake up?

We’ve also discovered that we can’t leave them unsupervised in a room with a window open. They’ve managed to push out the screen at least once. In Texas, this wasn’t a big deal since we turned our home into a hermetically sealed air-conditioned cocoon starting in April. Round here though, we don’t have none of that fancy air-conditioning since the outside temp averages 70 degrees. That’s great right? It’s great if you don’t have demonic felines attempting to spew forth from your abode.

Can’t you tell I love my babies?