Mornings.

I don't particularly like mornings. especially till my parents are still at home. There is far too much yelling and hurrying and panicking. It is a general hindrance to society, in my opinion of course.
In my household mornings have a very set pattern which goes something like this :
My mom wakes me up with a scream so loud ( I'm sure the neighbors stopped using their alarms ever since we moved in) that it jerks the living day lights out of me. All this usually because she can't find some thing. eg. a book, her sandles, her bindi so on and so forth.
Then my mother leaves like a whirlwind after disrupting everything. After this episode i manage so snuggle back into bed when my faithful little doggie companion takes it upon himself to take up the job of waking me up. The way he achieves this mission is nothing less than a subtle art. It starts with the thumping of his tail on my wooden bed right next to my head THUMP THUMP THUMP once I push his backside away he changes his tactics and and continues his attack from the front now I have his BIG black nose in front of my face as he pants away to glory, in this strategy he attacks my sense of hearing AND my sense of smell. As this drama unfolds I still try (optimistically) to sleep. I yell, I shove, I beg and I plead and finally my dog grants me the liberty to put my head back on the pillow.
As soon as I do so, its 8 o clock by now, which is the official wake up time in my house, my dad wakes me up and informs me that its late and i should be up and bright and sparkly.

This is how each of my weekday morning begins (weekends? they are even worse)