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Typical Morning

Miscellaneous By: MAmberConrad

It's a typical morning.

Submitted:Mar 12, 2012    Reads: 26    Comments: 2    Likes: 2   

I awoke with a start.

The alarm was bleeping at me. After I smacked it off, I realized it's been attempting to wake me for nearly five minutes.

"Eh, phhbbtt!"

Okay, that's not exactly what I said as my feet plopped on the floor. It was more of a four-letter word, of the F-bomb nature. Why do I say this so early in the morning? Well, there are several reasons. Number One, I have not yet had my coffee. My coffee intake is very important. It helps me to keep my filter… well… filtered. Number Two, I am not a morning person. At all. And I'm certainly not a five thirty-five in the morning kind of person. Oh, how I wish school would start at noon. Number Two and a Half, refer back to rule Number One. Reason Number Three, (and this one is just as important as the coffee) I have to go to the bathroom. The dog is blocking the door to the bathroom. Now, normally one would maybe give the dog a quick shove with the foot. That doesn't work. Gracie is a heavy sleeper and wouldn't budge an inch. I could attempt to step over the Great Sleeping Dane, but I imagine Mount Everest would be a quicker climb. Reason number Four, (we're still talking about my morning word) it's the first word that really comes to mind. Reason Number Four and a Half… Yeah. You guessed it. It all boils back down to Reason Number One. Coffee.

I skipped the bathroom and shuffle to the kitchen. Coffee is ready. This is important. I had set the timer and made coffee the night before so that my shuffling, sluggish, ill-tempered self can indulge before any more unfiltered thoughts come to fruition. I poured a cup, tap a tad bit of creamer in, stir, and take that first sip, still standing at the counter.

"Aaahhh" I say. I made my way to the table to look out at the dark morning. I slowly took in my coffee, sip by sip and the fog begins to clear from my head. I trid not to remember anything important this early in the morning. I'm not worried about appointments, which kid has what after school, or even going for a run. I just listened to the cows behind our house mooing as I sipped and enjoyed a cup of coffee.

Before I knew it, it's six o'clock in the morning. Twenty five minutes goes by quickly. I looked into my coffee cup and realize it's nearly gone. I made my second trip to the coffee pot and poured a second cup. A tad bit of cream later and I stirred that yummy stuff up. This time I reach into the 'fridge for some caramel. I stirred that in, too. I sipped. "Yes, indeed."

I headed to my teenager's room. She's fourteen and is usually the hardest to rouse out of bed. I opened her door and reached above me to turn on her light. I tripped over a mass of something and spilled my coffee on … her mass of something. Fumbling around with a single hand (remember, I still have coffee in my hand), I finally find the cord to her ceiling fan slash light. I tug on it and my eyes, my eyes! I blink at the bright light and it takes me a moment to be able to see again. Damn me for looking up. When I can see again, I see that she has switched beds on me again. She fell asleep on her top bunk last night, yet she's clearly passed smooth out on her bottom bunk. I sit on the front of her bed and watch her for a moment. I brush her wild and crazy hair out of her face.

"Good morning, sweet girl." Nothing happens. I kiss her on her forehead, being careful to not spill my hot coffee on her. "Do you want a sip of coffee?" I barely hear an Mmmphh. Giving her one more kiss, I tell her, "You have five minutes."

I stand and look at her floor. That mass of something that I tripped over and spilled coffee on was clean clothes. Or, were they her semi-clean clothes? Who really knows? I step over the heap and trudge to the other bedroom.

I open the door quietly. I am happy that she is finally sleeping through the night. My ten year old has ADHD and some other behavioral issues, along with the occasional bout of insomnia. (Remind you of anyone?) I shuffle my feet and reach up to turn on her light. Since I'm a bit used to the light now, it doesn't affect me as much. I see a lump in the middle of the bed, beneath her comforter. It starts to move and make a sound. Oh, dear, the lump is giggling at six-oh-five in the morning. I smile, because I know why the lump is giggling. I stand there for a moment, relishing it. After that moment, the lump bursts out of the comforter and off the bed.


Of course I pretend to be scared! I even spill a little coffee to be a bit dramatic. (Not too much, though.) She wraps her arms around me and tells me "Good morning, momma" with a devilish grin on her face.

"Good morning, my darling."

(My two girls early on a Saturday morning)


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