Memory Lane - Getting out of bed

I have no idea how or why, seeing as my parents were both early risers, but my siblings and I - back when we were living at home - liked to sleep, especially on weekends.

I have two alarms and I can reset them every half hour without any memory of doing so. It's my own particular band of sleep walking.

Only two things can wake me on a weekend morning these days: Fluffy Bear jumping on top of me for a tickle fest, and Puppy Dog licking my face.

When I was a teenager, I remember my father deliberately mowing the lawn on Saturday mornings right outside my bedroom window, with the gas mower, which sounded like a continous series of mini thunderbolts. I swear he went back and forth below my window for ten minutes. The grass in that patch was always veryshort. I had no choice but to take the hint.

My brother, when told by my mother to wake me up, had his own, unique, and very effective method. He'd pick up the entire mattress, turn it over and dump me on the floor. He was much bigger than me and no amount of squealing would stop him. I had a parquay floor with no carpet. Kissing that head first will wake up the dead.

But I had the odd moment when I could get revenge.

My sister was sleeping late once and I was bored, so I went into her room and started singing:

Wake up, wake up, it's a lovely day

Oh please wake up and come and play

The birds are singing in the trees (I never hit that high note right)

And you can hear the buzzing bees

Wake up, wake up... etc.

My sister had very long, expertly manicured nails. I'm surprised she didn't scratch my eyes out.

My mother was kindest about waking me up (except for when she despatched my brother). She'd come in at about 10, and softly say it was time to get up. Then she'd come again at about 11. At noon and softly tell me it was nearly lunch time. She knew exactly what motivated me.

Will move for food.