Men are flappy and bossy.

Zounds and confound it! I am being harassed.
A free day at last, I am officially finished work today. So, thought I, sweet! I'll sleep in, get up whenever, read through the morning paper at my leisure, find something to chortle over, do a post, await the arrival of morning chumlies to the water cooler/coffee stand, see how they are doing this fine and frosty morning. Maybe go into town for lunch with the Spaniard. And then play it by ear there after.
BUT NO!
The paramour, that great big chunk of all things male, is also off this morning and wants to 'do' stuff. And what he seems to want to 'do' most is boss me about and tell me to hurry up and get ready so that we might go to Dundrum and pick up some 'bits and pieces'
'Bit and pieces?' I squawked from under the duvet where I was hiding out this velly morning.
'Yes, come on, shake a leg, let's go, come on.'
'Okay.' I lied.
And promptly fell back into the deep coma he had woken me from. Puddy, who had fought the Bigger of the cats for top of the bed supreme snoozing place, settled back and began to huffy snore gently. She is used to second sleep going on for quite some time, but today both of us were in for a rude awakening.
'Come on! I know you're stalling.'
And then chumlies, then he did something so...utterly unspeakable I am still in shock.
He pulled the cover off me!
'Aieeeee.' I said as cold air flooded over my jammied corpse.
'Reaccck.' said Puddy as she rolled over onto her back.
'I know you're just going to fall back asleep again.' The paramour said. 'Come on, there's coffee down stairs, we want to get going and out there and get parking.'
That's a whole lot of getting.
Well, I am aghast at this treatment. Aghast I tell you. And now he's flapping about all over the place and demanding I 'get dressed' and 'get ready' and stuff. And I'm all, 'but I need to check my emails and stuff.' And he's all, 'How long will THAT take you?'
And I'm all, 'Well, if you leave me alone for a few minutes not as long as if you stand there making that trapped wind face.'
And THEN Chumlies, he looked at his watch and THEN he tapped it and said, 'I want to be leaving here before ten-thirty.'
I'm telling you, it's like being in the military or something. I don't even have time to read the Daily Mail or anything, which means my blood pressure will be too low to go looking for 'bits and pieces.' Plus he want us to go to Mark&Sparks and I haven't had breakfast yet, which means I'll buy all manner of delicious looking crap because I will be HUNGRY.
Argh! I barely have time to post this. He's just said, 'come on love' in this really disappointed voice. He's trying to use guilt on me chumlies.
Argh. And it's working.
Argh I say. Dundrum, don't you know it will be packed.
Argh.
Men are bossy and sneakily good at it.