Most people like to wake up slowly. You know, we kind of open our eyes, look around, wonder what time it is, check the clock and maybe, just maybe, get the opportunity to lay there in silence before dragging our sorry selves out of bed to face the day.
I'm not any different from "most people"
Unfortunately I have yet to be lucky enough to wake up slowly and enjoy my morning. At least this week, anyway.
Ryan usually wakes me up with his screams at 4:30 AM and because the thought of having two children awake at that hour terrifies me, I "sprint" from my bed to remove him from the room that he shares with his sister before she too is suddenly awoken from her slumber.
Yesterday I had the pleasure of stomping on a piece of cat barf on my way down the stairs.
"Good Morning" indeed.
This morning I found an exploded diaper in my washing machine.
Never done it?
Look it up. It really isn't something you want to find at 5:00 in the morning.
By the time I got everything cleaned up I had 20 minutes left to get myself into a presentable and professional state for work. And, let me tell you, that wasn't easy. All of my clean underwear were in a basket in the dining room, my toothbrush fell into the trash and my shoes were hidden behind the dryer.
Oh the joys of mornings at our house.
This is why God created man....
To invent Starbucks.