We have four players in our conversation
Myself and Ace (the humans who pay the mortgage) then we have Ethan and Archie (the felines who own the house).
Ethan usually starts around ten past seven, just as Ace is getting up.
Ethan: DAD. BREAKFAST. NOW.
Ace: I'm showering first, you can have breakfast when I'm done. Go back to your scheduled shedding on the sofa.
Ace closes the bedroom door (I work later starts than him and don't get up until around eight) but today Ace was not careful enough. The door was not closed properly.
Archie: Ethan- hey, psst... mum's in there and the door's not shut properly. Go ask her for breakfast.
Ethan: You sure? Dad doesn't like us going in that room. He put VapoRub on the door, remember?
Archie: Yeah that was ages ago, go on in, ask mum for breakfast.
Ethan attempts to be stealthy, pushing the door open and entering the room with his three bells (yes, he needs three) remaining silent until he jumps onto the bed, onto me.
Ethan: MUM. Dad won't feed me and I'm STAAAARVING.
Me: Go away. I fed you two hours ago when I got up to pee.
Ethan: Archie ate all of that. I'm still hungry. What's that?
Me: That is my phone, leave it alone.
Ethan: It's shiny and there's something inside it that is moving around. I must destroy it!
Ethan leaps from his position on my stomach to my bedside table, knocking my phone (thankfully in a squishy case and on its' charger) and several books to the floor and falling in an ungracious heap on top of them.
Ace (from the shower): What was that crash!?
Ethan: Nothing! Nothing! I didn't fall off the bedside table! I didn't do anything!
I get out of bed and scoop Ethan up, taking him into the hallway. Archie slips between my feet as I leave, entering the forbidden domain that is our bedroom while it is empty of parents.
I take Ethan down the hall into the kitchen and plop him on the floor in front of their two kibble bowls.
Me: There. Breakfast is served. Enjoy.
Ethan: That's stale. I don't want it. I need fresh kibble.
I get the box down and shake it over the bowls so that three pieces of kibble land in each. Ethan sits and begins to munch while I return to bed.
Me: Archie, why are you in our room? You know you're not allowed in here. Get out of the bed.
Archie: But you got up and left this lovely warm patch for me!
Ace: Is Archie in the bed again?
Me: Yes but he is being extracted.
Archie yawns as I pick him up and take him into the kitchen to join his brother. Archie settles down at the blue bowl and Ethan looks over at him.
Ethan: Hang on, how come he gets the blue bowl! I want the blue bowl!
Ethan nudges his big brother aside and begins eating out of the blue bowl, sending Archie to the red one, which is now almost empty. He looks at it then up at me, pitiful.
Archie: Why did you have to bring him home? I'm a walking skeleton thanks to him, he always eats all the food and never leaves me anything. Don't get me started on how he hides all the good toys.
Me: Fine. You can eat in the laundry, but this is the last time.
I pick up the blue bowl and take it into the laundry, putting it on top of the stacked washer and dryer before scooping a half-cup of kibble out of the big box in the laundry.
Archie: You expect me to jump up there under my own power? That's almost six feet!
Me: Fine. But you better not complain when you can't get down again.
I pick him up and deposit him on the top of the dryer and he begins to eat his breakfast. I return to bed, thinking I might get another half-hour of snooze in, only to find Ethan is now curling up in my warm spot.
I give up, extract him from the bed and make it before returning to the kitchen to make my own (and Ace's) breakfasts.
Ten minutes later, just as the second lot of toast pops and the kettle is boiling.
Archie: MUUUUUUUM!!! COME AND GET ME DOWN!!! I'M STUCK ON TOP OF THE DRYER!