Every time I hear the toaster pop, I waken up.
I don't mean that I am simply not asleep any more,
I mean that I am really awake.
Awake. And questioning.
"How long do I have to wait?"
"How much butter can you get onto that toast?"
And finally it arrives.
Mum even likes to torment me by making lick my lips countless times before she'll actually give me the butter-lathered toast.
And while I wait, I attempt my Angry Look.
Mum just laughs, so it clearly doesn't work very well.
In future, I will use only my Pathetic Look.
Oh, and mum says to tell y'all that she keeps the butter for herself. I am relegated to that spread-stuff-that-has-who-knows-what-in-it.
Huh! She has clearly forgotten that I have Royal Blood in me. I'll bet the Queen's corgis get butter.