Some people are morning people (The Big Guy). Some people…ahem…aren’t (me).

Some people have so much pep in their step, that you want to put spikes in their slippers (The Big Guy). Some people can get there, but they need a little time to warm up (me).

So, imagine the double-whammy frustration that is TBG on HOLIDAYS! He wakes up almost as early as he normally does, has a big (noisy) love-in with the dogs in the kitchen – which sounds like a stampede of whining elephants with loooong toenails on a hardwood floors in an echo chamber, and then proceeds to clatter and bang his way through his coffee and breakfast routine. Then, because he doesn’t have to head out the door, is the epitome of “Sally Sunshine” when I come down the stairs, exalting the beauty of a 6:30 a.m. with no daylight. He then lists the various “exciting” and “interesting” things he plans for his day. I use quotes because, while I’m sure they are both exciting and interesting plans, I can’t say with any certainty, because my brain is still only on is basic Operating System, which is to say, I’m trying to figure out how to put socks on.

I’m not used to communicating with anyone in the morning¬†since First Born Son moved to college four months ago,¬†as Second Born Son takes after his mother (poor soul) and needs a “warm up” grace period that starts around 7 a.m. I’m out the door right around the time he can form words.

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TBG is bouncing around the kitchen, offering various frying pans and utensils, asking if I want eggs or cereal (answer: no freaking clue – my stomach is comatose!) He comments on what I’m wearing or asks what I’m doing in my day (answer: no freaking clue – that’s why I have a commute to work, to remember what I do for a living)


This continues until I back out of the garage with him waving enthusiastically, dogs circling his legs, and a grin plaster across his face.

“Have a GREAT day!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

I will, I think to myself, as soon as I have 100% brain consciousness!