Saturday
5.40 am -- "Can we get up now?"
"No, wait
till 6 o'clock"
"When’s
that?"
"Soon."
90 seconds
elapses.
"Is it 6
o'clock yet?"
Most of my
days start like this. It’s fine in the
week because we need to get up and get out early anyway. Saturdays are harder. To be honest, the sooner I give in and rouse
myself to get downstairs and mainline coffee the better mood I start the day
in. If I stay in bed and try to argue about
the time I just end up in a foul mood and certainly no more rested.
I remember doing
this to my parents. I guess its common
with early risers and our lad probably gets it from me in the first place. What
goes around comes around.
It makes
for long and very full on days though and so by 6.30 pm I’m done in.
However, as
I lay beside my little miracle just now, as he fell gently into sleep I fell to
musing.
A long day
yes, but we painted. We bounced on the trampoline. We went to a local farm and mooched among the
rare-breed pigs and cows. We made chickpea curry and apple tart together.
Golden days
really. Who knows what tomorrow will
bring? For today, however, I am thankful
for them. Days to be cherished – I’m definitely feeling the glass half full
thing this evening.
Mind you, as
I type mine is half empty of gin and tonic, and no doubt that’s helping J
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