We Warned Him

Well, recently my grandpa has become the seventh roomie in our house, which I lovingly like to refer to as the "Riot House." And we warned him. We warned him.
Tonight, the phone rang at 12:38 a.m., I made two cups of hot chocolate at 2:00 a.m., and I had several flashbacks to that conversation my mom had with him earlier:
Mom: Welcome. We just want to go over everyone's sleeping schedule, so you know which alarm clocks to ignore.
Grandaddy: Okay.
Mom: Everyone's alarm clocks go off between seven a.m. and nine a.m., and we're all out the door by ten. Except Lindz, who has...
(Mom looks at me for help, and I pretend to be incredibly perplexed in my poker hand)
... very irregular writing hours.

HA! We warned him. Although I don't think he understood that "irregular writing hours" meant twenty straight hours of sleep, followed by three days of hour-long naps every four hours, followed by another twelve-hour night (that actually BEGINS at 8 a.m.). WE WARNED HIM! Now I'm going to go take a bath. After all, it's 3:30 a.m.