Being an alarm clock

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In a few hours, they will run the Japanese F1 Grand Prix. Unfortunately, for us on the East coast of the US, that means it is on television at 2am. I am not going to disrupt my biorhythms to watch it, but The Man wants to see it. I suggested he go to bed at 8pm, and then get up to watch it, so he'd still get some sleep. While he was sleeping, The Boy and I watched Sharknado 2. Until recently, I hadn't seen any of the Sharknado movies. Now we've seen two of them. They are really terrible movies, but I will watch Sharknado 3 when it comes on Netflix, because it seems like a pop culture obligation. If you didn't already dislike sharks, the idea that sharks being tossed through the air by tornadoes and then landing at your feet would still be interested in eating you instead of being splattered into chum, then you will find Sharknado will give you new reasons to fear them. But the time has come and I have alerted The Man that it's 11 pm, time for him to get up. I made coffee and turned the pot off so it wouldn't be stewed when he got up. He just has to nuke it cup by cup in the microwave. The guinea pigs are fed and given their nightly treat. Having fulfilled my duty as an alarm clock. I am off to bed.