Still half asleep, I set Fleegle’s food bowl in its stand as he waits, drooling as he watches.
“Breakfast is early,” he says.
All I can do is grunt an affirmative and go in search of coffee.
* * *
I scoop a cup of kibble into Fleegle’s food bowl for his lunch. More drool as he watches.
“Lunch is early too? What’s going on?” he asks.
I shake my head, still sleepy from lack of sleep. “Daylight Savings Time. We lost an hour.”
“How can you lose an hour?”
I rub my eyes. “A shared group psychosis.”
“If everyone decides blue is red, then blue is red even though blue isn’t red.”
“Ah, that sounds like one of those crazy people things only you guys understand. Got it,” he says and digs into his food.
* * *
I put Fleegle’s dinner in front of him.
“Dinner is early too. I like this group psychosis thing called Daylight Savings Time, but where do you save the light? Can you take it out when it gets dark, like in the middle of the night when you need to hunt for a snack? Are you saving the light inside the light bulbs? I’ve always wondered how they worked.”
* * *
I click off the television and head to the bedroom.
Fleegle looks up from his spot on the couch. “Raud, where are you going? It’s too early for bedtime.”
“No, it’s not. This is the time we always go to bed.”
Fleegle follows me into the bedroom and nose bumps the clock on the nightstand. “Your time machine may say it’s time for bed, but my stomach says we’ve got a good hour to have a snack before bed, maybe a plate of cottage cheese or some cold pizza, and nothing tells time better than my stomach.”
“Fleegle, as of this morning blue is red and red is blue. In six months, blue will be blue and red will be red again.”
“Well, Raud, you can play all the mind games you want, but that’s not going to stop my stomach from growling. Let’s use some of that light you’ve saved and look around in the fridge. Maybe we can find some cold fried chicken or pizza slices.”