I had my oatmeal ready to go, with its flaxseed and raisins and brown sugar stirred in. I had my coffee mug filled, with my El Slavador blend of coffee, black, just the way I like it. Everything was in its place as I sat down to the table.
Or was it? Something was missing, a niggling sense that the routine wasn't quite complete.
And then the cat emerged from wherever she'd been hiding to begin her morning routine, weaving around my chair legs, purring and chirping, butting her head against my outstretched hand. When I neglected my humanly duties, she put one front paw up on the arm of the chair, the other batting at my arm, a message that said, with a clear accompanying chirp, "Here I am. Why are you not worshiping? Hel-looo!"
Much better. My morning breakfast routine was complete.