This morning, Jezebel is slinking around the house with her head hanging down and her tail drooping. Why? Because last night she was an emotional basketcase, and this morning she’s embarrassed. A little after midnight, a ripsnorter of a thunderstorm blew in. In fairness to Jez, it’s a little hard to sleep when the room lights up as bright as day and the thunder shakes the windows. But, I just pulled the pillow over my head and went to sleep.
When the storm was near enough that the lightning and thunder were close to simultaneous, I dragged myself out of bed to unplug all the computers. I tried to wake up Ariel—she sleeps like the dead, or undead. At any rate, it was easier for me to unplug her computer than to wake her, so that’s what I did. Next, I unplugged the school room computers. I knocked on Luke’s door—he muttered unintelligibly and grunted out “yeah” in response to my "unplug your computer." At this point, our black dog, who’s supposed to be ferocious and mildly evil, met me in the hall. She gave me her pathetic look--wide eyes and flattened ears. Then she tried to "hide" by pushing her way between my legs. Behind her trailed Matt and Jake, who were vociferously denouncing her two-fold approach to the scary electrical storm. First, she barked. When that didn’t work, she whimpered. Matt and Jake threatened all kinds of evil if she were not removed from their room.
With a sigh, I took Jez to our room and said, “The Master wants you.” Jez trotted around the bed to Cal’s side. And I pulled the pillow back over my head and went to sleep. Yep, there are definite privileges to not being The Master.