You're Not Bein' Very Nice to Me!

This was a disappointing weekend.
Saturday, we were supposed to have a pseudo-escape. It didn’t work out so well.
The fellowship organization got all the candidates hotel rooms at a nice place so they could easily make all the appointments—even those very early in the morning. Since Saturday was just the banquet and Sunday the getting-to-know-you events, we thought it would work nicely if I stayed over Saturday night. A dinner and hotel room! Free! Yes, I knew I would be necessarily neglected during dinner, but my hope was that the food would be good.
I should know better.
The “banquet” was a few different kinds of sloppy joe that were room temperature and had been sitting out a few hours (food poisoning, anyone?). I didn’t eat. The rooms were like a sauna and there was no hot water. I did not sleep well or comfortably. The morning shower was also unpleasant.
I left fairly early in the morning. Hubby said they’d switched the room to freezing with scalding water the next day (after walking around the city in the pouring deluge) and wondered if it was an endurance test of some kind. I would kind of wonder the same thing after that.
Sasha was mad at us when I got home. He did not want us leaving him (note: We left him with his grandparents, not alone). So he decided to punish us. And so he punished me.
He woke up at 1am and wandered into our room. Sometime before waking me up, he fussed with the buttons on the alarm clock changing it from “radio” to “rain” (keep in mind, it was pouring, so not a sound likely to cause any sleep disruption). Then he woke me up to ask me where his “red doggie pants were”. I didn’t know. At one am I didn’t have any idea what he was talking about. I told him to go back to bed. He pranced out “Ok, I’m findin’ ‘em”.
I opened my eyes a little and noticed his bedroom light was on so I got up.
There were clothes strewn everywhere and his drawers were empty. And he was bottomless. I asked if he’d wet or dirtied his PJ’s. Nope. I asked why he was half naked and in a new top (note to self: he can button). He said he didn’t want his Star Wars ones, he wanted the ones with doggies.
Oh, no. He was getting right back in his undies and pants, helping me put his clothes back, and getting his rear back in that bed.
Apparently that was intolerable. So he threw a fit.
My night of peaceful sleep was then toast and included a good bit of time cramming a wild baboon into clothes and cleaning up a clothing monsoon.
I suppose I should be grateful I got some extra sleep this morning courtesy of his alarm reprogramming.