Saturday mornings are an important part of my household administration.

My humans seem to believe that Saturday is a day for “sleeping in”. This is a charming idea, rather like believing the sofa belongs to them.

At precisely the correct hour, which is whenever I decide the household has been inactive for long enough, I begin my inspection.

First, I sit beside the bed and observe.

Nothing.

Then I walk across the duvet with the careful authority of a royal official checking a suspicious bridge. One human moves slightly, but this is clearly not sufficient.

I therefore proceed to Phase Two: Strategic Proximity.

This involves sitting very close to a human face and staring with quiet determination. Humans find this surprisingly effective. Perhaps they sense the weight of responsibility. Perhaps they simply notice my whiskers.

Eventually, one eye opens.

“Cotton, it’s Saturday.”

Yes. I am aware of the calendar. I personally approved it.

The human closes the eye again.

A serious management error.

I then take up position on the chest, where I can monitor breathing, facial expressions and any signs of breakfast-related activity. I am not heavy, of course. I am merely impossible to ignore.

At last, the humans surrender and leave the bed.

They shuffle towards the kitchen looking tired and confused, while I lead the procession with dignity. Another successful morning operation.

Breakfast is served. Curtains are opened. The household begins moving.

And my humans receive valuable continuing education points for responding to senior leadership before noon.

Firm but fair. That is my policy.

Yours, Mrs. Cotton 🐱🐾