Pad. Pad. Pad.
Thump! Thump! Rustle.
“Kurt,” I groan, “I think she’s got a mouse again.”
“Yeah,” he says.
I burrow under the covers and pull them up around my ears. Maybe she’ll just stop on her own. We lie there half asleep, each trying to out wait the other, or hoping the cat will just go away.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
“It’s your turn,” I finally complain. “I got the one the other night.”
After a few more minutes and ongoing thuds, thumps, and mews, I feel the blankets move back. A small light turns on.
“Is it a mouse?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he says. I hear him rustle around a bit and then leave the room. The door outside opens, then shuts. A few minutes later, the bed sinks as he climbs back in. I roll over and snuggle back into the blankets, drifting off contentedly.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
“Oh, no,” I moan. “It must have been a twin!”