Just another afternoon siesta
"Sleeping?" I felt a finger poke me in the ribs through my thin blanket. I huffed in reply. "How long have you been sleeping?" "I didn't get any sleep last night." I protested in a muffled voice, from under the covers. A soft thump told me that my dog, Ben, had joined my father's side to wake me up from my afternoon nap. "Why?" Dad prodded. "I was scared, after watching that...horror...film." I said, refusing to take my head out from under the blanket. Dad clucked in response, probably in derision, to voice his disappointment at his twenty two year old's reaction to a B-grade exorcism. "Oh, by the way, after I climbed into your's and Mom's bed last night, you asked me, forty minutes later, mind you, 'Is it you, mamma ?' Honestly Dad, who else would it have been?" Ben was now standing on the bed, his front paws, on my Dad's chest, leaning over and trying to lick my face. I burr