That Darn Cat

The house was silent and dark. It was the dead of night after all. Something woke me, but I knew it wasn't a sound, nor a smell. Something deep inside me told me it was time. Time to arise.

I felt it in my bones just as clearly as I felt the soft carpet under my bare feet. I crept down the cold tile hallway to the kitchen, keeping near the walls where the floor was less squeaky. Shifting my weight from heel to toe, I made my travel a whisper.

The freezer half of the fridge bathed me in light as I reached for the bucket of frozen deliciousness. Quickly, let the door close lest the light somehow send an unconscious alarm to the others. Curse the drawer with the spoons that always catches in the middle, jostling the contents.

Scoop a bite and let it melt in my mouth.

The sound of scampering paws skitters down the hall.

Meow!

Shh! This is MY time. MY ice cream. The cat flops at my feet.

"What are you doing?" whisper-yawned my spouse.

Busted. I slip the spoon into the sink, head hung low.