light, breakfast

Until the middle of this past week the wingpiglet didn't seem to have made the connection between being able to get out of his bed by himself when we pop into his room to get him up in the morning (when he's usually already awake but still duveted) and the possibility of getting out of bed after his random night-time awakenings (attributed on Wednesday night to a "big dream") but he's become used to the idea very quickly, waking me up this morning with the flumfing sounds of him shuffling to the bottom of his bed, sliding onto the floor, pottering to the door, creaking it open then lightly grasping the top rail of the stairgate (currently across his door) between his teeth and rattling it lightly. I didn't check the time as it seemed far too early but he was persuaded to get back into bed, shortly after which the heating came on, indicating that it must have been roughly sixish and therefore technically an acceptable time to get up, though he didn't get properly up until light was beginning to peek through his blind, resulting in the streetlights outside being already off by the time we were ready for breakfast.