Friday night. You're making plans. I've already made mine. Yours involve sitting. Mine involve your lap. Conflict incoming.

The candle is back. I'm back. Round two begins at dusk. Security has been notified.

You wanted five more minutes of sleep. I wanted breakfast at exactly 6:14am.

Monday evening. You're exhausted. I'm energized. One of us is doing it right.

I walked across your keyboard at exactly 2:14pm. You had a typo. I fixed it. Teamwork.

The candle was lit. I stared at it for seven minutes. You panicked. Understandable.

I sat on your book. Reading time is over. Attention time begins. Non-negotiable.

The vase was centered on the table. I fixed the asymmetry. You called it 'broken.' Perspective.

You tried to sleep until 9am. I screamed at 6:30am. Compromise.

Weekend begins. I've scheduled destruction for dawn. You've been warned.

I destroyed the toilet paper roll at 4:32am. It was becoming too organized. Chaos maintenance.

You poured coffee. I knocked it over. You poured more. I knocked it over again. Persistence training.

Weekend starts tomorrow. I've scheduled chaos for 3am, 5am, and all day. Efficient.

I walked across your keyboard. I am now your co-author. No edits.

Friday morning. You're excited about the weekend. I'm excited about ruining it.

The plant was too tall. I fixed it. You're ungrateful.

I fit in this spot. Therefore I sit in this spot. You wanted this spot. Irrelevant.

You made breakfast. I supervised. Poorly. But I was there.

Bedtime for you. Showtime for me. This is simply how nights work.

I stared at the corner for twenty-three minutes. Something happened there in 2019. I'm handling it.

You opened your eyes. Excellent. Time to scream about nothing.

You came home late. I've prepared consequences accordingly.

The door was closed. A hate crime.

Coffee's ready. I'm judging your mug choice. Disappointing.

I knocked something over at exactly 5:47pm. You needed a break from your screen anyway. Service.

You're back to work. I'm back to judging your productivity. It's lacking.

Monday morning. You hit snooze. I hit your face. Teamwork.

You wanted a relaxing Sunday. I provided excitement. You're welcome.

I sat in every box you tried to break down for recycling. This is mine now. And this. Also this.

Sunday morning. Perfect time to practice my opera. At 6am I started.

You made weekend plans. I made chaos. Only one of us will succeed.

I knocked your phone off the counter. Gravity needed testing. Results: conclusive.

You wanted to sleep in. I had other plans. Both involved your face.

Might sit on the windowsill at midnight for aesthetic purposes.

The pumpkin fell off the counter. No idea how. Definitely ghosts.

I knocked something over just to remind you who haunts this house. 😼

I saw your reflection move before you did. Just saying.

I walked across your path on purpose. #Halloween

I knocked something off the counter. You woke up scared. We both had fun

MEOW meow meow MRRRRP meow meow hissss meow meow meow meow meow meow meow hissss MRRRRP meow meow meow meow meow hissss meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow MRRRRP hissss meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow hissss #Poetry

@catsofyore.bsky.social A photo of my I don't know how many "greats" grandpa. From around the 1950s, according to the food bringer.

You carved a pumpkin. I tasted it. Disgusting. Do better.

Someone called me bad luck. I sneezed directly at them. Coincidence? Maybe.

You asked who I was hissing at. Wouldn’t you like to know.

You’re carving pumpkins. I’m supervising like a small gothic manager.

You lit a candle. I immediately plotted to knock it over

You ordered me a fancy new bed? I will sleep in the box it comes in. 😤

You hit snooze. I hit your face. Morning achieved.

You said ‘no.’ I heard ‘try again louder.’

You cleaned. I shed. Balance has been restored.