Easy like Sunday morning?

Yesterday morning, I was at my desk checking my email while Matt took his customary seat on the couch, ready to settle into his Sunday routine (watching football and yelling at the TV). There were bangs and rattles coming from the back of the apartment and Matt kept adjusting the volume, trying to drown the sound out. After a few minutes, he got frustrated.

“What the hell is that?”

I didn’t look away from the screen as I answered, “The bunny. He’s beating his vegetable basket against the side of his cage to let me know that his breakfast is late. Hear the bell?”

Of course he could hear the bell as the rabbit viciously swung the purple basket again and again. The clang of metal on metal was impossible to miss. I knew that cat was watching him (from a safe distance) with wide eyes and rapt attention. I suspected the bunny’s tantrum was giving her ideas.

“Well aren’t you going to feed him?” Matt demanded impatiently.

“In a minute,” I told him, heading to MSNBC and half-listening to the football pre-game announcers.

“Why won’t you feed him now?”

I sighed, “Because I’m teaching him that he can’t throw a fit and have me run in there to see about him.”

He didn’t answer, but I could have sworn I saw his eye twitch as he turned back to the TV while turning the volume up another notch.