Dawn was breaking outside my bedroom window and despite Maddie’s many efforts to awaken me, I’d gently brushed her off and was in that warm, fuzzy comfortable half-sleep that you want to continue forever. I sighed deeply and snuggled on to my side. Life was wonderful … until …
“ARGHHH!”
A searing pain across my nose and cheek jettisoned me out of bed and onto my feet before I’d even opened my eyes.
“WHAT HAPPENED? HAS WORLD WAR 3 STARTED?”
My hands flew to my face and returned full of splattered blood. I grabbed a tissue in an attempt to save the pale cream bedroom carpet, staggered to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Sure enough, there across my nose and cheek was a gash worthy of a pirate’s sword. Behind me stood a sheepish but innocent-looking white cat.
Having stopped the bleeding, I staggered back to my bed, and there lay the offending object – my iPad. Even in my dazed state it became quickly obvious what had happened …
A small, white, frustrated cat, after several failed attempts to wake me up, had leapt full pelt onto my shiny bedside cabinet where my iPad lived. She had landed with such force on the iPad that it had slid across the shining surface and become a missile whose trajectory, aligned perfectly with my slumbering face, couldn’t fail to hit its mark.
Surely Maddie’s leap hadn’t been purposeful? Such a beautiful face. Such wide-eyed innocence. Was I imagining it or did I see a fleeting look of satisfaction that her mission had been achieved and Mum had not only woken up, but also got up – be it in shock, haste and agony.
The scar lasted for two weeks – two weeks of hiding away from public view.
The iPad now lives on the floor beside my bed at night!
