It's 9am. Do you know where your Howler is?
Door's open (unlike my eyes); Spongebob is on the TV (of course, he's always on TV); and I do not know where my Howler is.
I holler her name.
No response. My eyes are fully open, and no, I did not miss seeing her.
I step onto the front porch. Without my glasses, I can still make out that the Howler's favorite (and non-crazy) neighbor's car is home...which means that this neighbor is also home.
Stuffing my feet into shoes (and being ever grateful that I sleep in shorts and a tee, not some fru-fru nightie) I head that direction.
Guess who woke up, noticed the car (and, as stated before, her favoritest neighbor EVER) is home, and (surprise) decided to go visit.
Yeppers. One Howler Monkey Alarm Clock is on it's way.
Said neighbor (no nick yet, she'll be disappointed) overslept...and the Howler knows where she keeps the key.
I'm still giggling at the image of the Howler, trouping off to roust the calvary in her skivvies and her teeshirt-cum-nightgown.
(I should also mention that she ducked out past me at the door, said, "Hey Mommy. See you at home later." and then promptly went to visit another neighbor whom she noticed was up with her front door open. I had to haul her butt home from there, too.)
That's my girl--keeping the neighbors on their toes too.
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