Agents of Chaos
Today’s post is brought to you by Banner and Balboa, Agents of Chaos
Welcome to my life.
Please note: this really happened, and no cats were harmed in the chronicling of this post — though one was forcibly evicted from a bathtub and another contributed to the general unraveling of my sanity.
The Night the Gremlins Took Over
A Promising Start
I started the night so well. Fitbit proudly informed me I’d clocked 51 whole minutes of deep sleep — practically a luxury spa retreat by my standards — and I thought, Yes. Tonight is the night. I’m finally going to sleep like a human being instead of a haunted scarecrow.
Naturally, that’s when everything went straight to hell in a handbasket.
The Mysterious 2 A.M. Knock
Around 2 a.m., I was jolted awake by a rhythmic knocking sound. Not a random thump. Not a creak. A pattern. The kind of noise that makes you sit up and think, “Well, that’s not good.”
I still have no idea what it was. It didn’t repeat, didn’t reveal itself, and wasn’t attached to any cat‑related crime scene. Just unexplained knocking and then poof — gone.
At first, I thought it was outside — the windows were open — but then I realized neither cat was in the bedroom. That’s when the “responsible pet parent” alarm went off.
The Innocent Cats (Allegedly)
I got up to check on them, expecting to find at least one of them mid‑shenanigan.
Nope.
Balboa was curled up on the couch looking like a Renaissance painting of a peaceful angel. Banner looked suspiciously innocent, which is how I knew he’d probably just finished a snack he wasn’t supposed to have.
Since I was already up, I figured I’d go to the bathroom and then try to salvage the rest of the night.
The Bathroom Takeover
That’s when the gremlins took over.
Banner marched into the tub like he was claiming new territory and refused to get out. Balboa got up and started following me around like a tiny furry shadow.
I tried sitting in a chair, hoping Banner would get bored of lying in the tub without an audience, but no — he was committed to the bit.
Eventually, I had to turn the water on to evict him. He gave me the betrayed look of a Victorian orphan in a Dickens novel, but he left. I shut the door behind him like I was sealing off a crime scene.
The Failed Return to Sleep
Back to bed I went… or tried to.
By then, I was fully awake, my nose was running, and my brain had rebooted into “middle‑of‑the‑night chaos mode.” I had just settled when Balboa hopped onto the bed.
Normally fine. Except he refused to settle down. He did the whole “walk in circles, flop dramatically, get up again, repeat” routine.
The Longest Night
This continued for the rest of the night — a tag‑team of feline interruptions, sniffles, and the slow unraveling of my sanity.
And the knocking? Still unexplained. I’m choosing to believe it was either a ghost with poor timing or the universe tapping out Morse code for “good luck.”
A Nap Is My Destiny
A nap is absolutely in my future. Possibly my destiny.
P.S.
If you’re curious why cats get the midnight zoomies or suddenly claim the bathtub as sovereign territory, my feed is filled with articles that offer an explanation, Sadly I think most of them are making it up as they go along.
And In case you missed it here’s a a brief retospective of my chaotic life with cats Kitty Shenanigans or Life with 2 Cats
