Alarm Clock Gnomes

An interesting phenomenon has occurred in our household. You see, when we went to bed last night I set the alarm clock for 6:15am, same as I did every night this week. But this morning, when I woke up and saw the time, 7:17am, I knew something extraordinary had happened. Here is my theory as to how it all went down:

[int. bedroom]

Jack and Anastasia are settling in for sleep. The cat is nestled between them, purring and pleased to finally have some company in the bed she's been occupying all day.

"Did you set the alarm?" Anastasia asks.

"You bet I did," Jack answers, then double-checks the alarm. "Ready to go, 6:15 as always. Boy, I love getting up at 6:15. I love getting up early and going to work."

"Oh yeah? How weird! I love getting up early and going to work too!"

"Cool!" Jack exclaims. "That's great that we both love getting up early and going to work. It's like we were meant for each other! Good night Wife."

"Good night Husband."

...Meanwhile...

[ext. front yard]

The Alarm Clock Gnomes have assembled beneath the rhododendron in front of the bedroom window.

"Did you hear that?" One gnome says to the others. "These people love getting up early and going to work."

"Yes," answers another gnome. "We must terrorize these people. We must sabotage their alarm clock."

The gnomes all nod in agreement and begin their gnomey walk (which looks much like a regular walk, except that it is done by gnomes) toward the secret access point near the northeast corner of the house. Once inside, it is a simple matter for these small things to navigate the house, moving from room to room in complete silence until...

"Dog!" a young gnome screams. Just as he's turning to run back the way they came, an elder gnome grabs him by the arm.

"Quiet you insolent! This dog is no threat to us. I've met her before. She may appear as a great white beast, but believe me, her ferocity couldn't fill the pointy hat on that dim head of yours."

The elder gnome slowly approaches the big dog who is looking down at him inquisitively, cocking her head from side to side and making little whimpering sounds.

"Okay now big girl," the elder gnome says to the dog. "Let us rub that marvelous belly of yours. How does that sound?"

At that, the dog lays down and rolls to her side. Three of the gnomes stay behind, stacked atop each other's shoulders, rubbing the dogs belly while the others push forward to the bedroom -- the object of their mission.

Once they reach the doorway they decide they must make sure the humans are asleep.

"Squirrels are raiding the garden," one gnome proclaims. And the woman does not stir.

"There are delicious pancakes out here," another gnome calls out. And the man does not stir.

"Okay, they're definitely asleep. Our time has come fellow gnomes. Let us now do our worst to that alarm clock!"

What happened next, I cannot say. No one has ever witnessed what feats of magic or simple engineering these gnomes perform on the innocent alarm clock. I only know that in the end, we slept right through the clock-radio's cues for us to start our day and upon close examination of said clock, all was in order and we should have woken up.

-- Which is why I firmly believe these gnomes -- these Alarm Clock Gnomes, are the only reasonable explanation for our late start this morning. Please beware, my friends. You have been warned.