Rise and Shine!!!!

So there I was, enjoying a beautiful summer morning laying in bed. Yes, It was early, 7:30 I think, but Diesel gets up early and I was used to it, so I lay there going through my phone, and used the time catching up on emails and texts. Sometime later, Diesel walks in and starts messing with the sheets, instinctively I assume he is trying to make the bed, so I smile and say: "Oh, I'll make the bed when I get up, don't worry." He looked at me with deep creases in his forehead and says "No, I need to do laundry." I paused a moment looked, at my phone, 7:45. Hmmm.... Ok, guess its time to get up. I'm sure he had a bunch of stuff to do, so I didnt make that big of a deal out of it. I get up, do the usual morning routine and head out to the living room. Diesel was sitting on the couch. I plopped down next to him and ask what he had on his agenda for the day. He said: "Not much, I have to stick around the house until at least noon, waiting for the maintenance man to show up." I suddenly felt my blood pressure rise. He's going to sit around the house all morning but he had to get me out of bed to do laundry? "So what was with kicking me out of bed?" I asked, he told me that he has a specifc routine that he follows and he has to do the sheets first. "Really?" "You can't do anything else first, like towels?" "Oh no!." He said, "if you do towels first, your sheets will get lint balls on them." It was at this point I had a flashback to my childhood, when my uncle Max brought over his prized doberman pincher dogs. They were trained using hand signals. Dad was quite impressed with the dogs and spent the next week trying to teach my dumb ass Old English Sheep dog the same hand signals. Needless to say, it was a bad week, for both Bandit, my dog who had no idea what was going on, and us kids, who had to watch Bandit get the crap beat out of him by dad, for not learning the hand signals. Flash forward.... I looked at Diesel and began explaining that it was rude to ask a guest to get out of bed early, to do a chore, especially when it was something he could do hours later. He again tried to explain his "routine" and how he does things a certain way or gets anxiety, etc. etc. I realized that like my dog Bandit, it was a losing battle and I could either take the "beatings" or just leave. I gathered up my things, kissed him on the forehead and left his doghouse.