I am not a morning person. My entire family knows this and accepts it. There’s a certain look that goes drifting across little eyes when I first stumble into the living room in the morning that is basically says, “the creature has stirred now stay still until she has consumed coffee.” The secret look and mutual plan to see it through is probably in the family handbook. Grumpy moms are scary. Grumpy moms that are sleepy with burning eyes that probably forgot their glasses on the nightstand table, hence running into walls, are downright worse than a zombie attack.
Usually I make one exception to the not a morning person rule and that is for Black Friday Shopping. In the past few years I’ve dutifully crawled into my inlaws guest room bed the night of Thanksgiving only to roll back out at 3:00am to hit the stores and grab some deals. It never fails that the night before they look at me with raised eyebrows and ask “are you sure you’re going”? And then when I walk in from shopping at 9am they look equally as shocked that I actually got up and went.
This morning however was not an exception to the rule. Mr. Byrd decided to take the two oldest girls to work with him and give me a partial day off. I’m not sure how it’s a partial day off when I’m going to the grocery store and spending the day immersed in my laundry pile and yes, immersed is the correct word for that statement. But I’ll take what I can get and be thankful that he’s such an amazing dad.
So at 5:30 when the alarm went off and the first snooze button got pressed I knew I was in for a rough start. Finally I got out of bed and went upstairs to wake the girls and get them dressed. Then I stepped in puddle of water that I had to clean up from a leaking water bottle left in a backpack, burned my finger on my flat iron when a child handed it to be hot side first and had a not so lovely discussion about what constitutes clean clothes vs. dirty clothes, all before even looking at the coffee pot. Finally they kissed me sweetly on the way out the door, one standing on my bare toes with her pointy shoes and I waved them off to a day in corporate America.
Now I’m writing this on the couch with a dog on the floor below bathing his nether regions with his tongue and another one curled up beside me asleep, just rubbing it in.
The littlest one is still asleep upstairs whom will be a bear when she discovers that her sisters left with Daddy. There will probably be donuts involved in the plan to rectify the unfairness of the world in the eyes of a 4 year old. Just between you and I, there’s a secret hope in there that the sugar crash from the donuts will make her sleepy and maybe, just hopefully, there will be a nap time today because I am not a morning person.
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