When my daughter was younger, she would wake up early on the weekends. A bundle of energy and excitement, ready and eager for adventure. Naturally this meant that she would come and wake me up. She just couldn't stop herself. It was impossible for me to sleep in or linger too long in the warmth and comfort of my bed. There was just too much to do and she didn't want to miss out on a second of play time, wasting it by anyone sleeping the day away.
Now as the years have passed, things have changed completely. North is south and east is west. On most weekend mornings I am the first one up. I get showered, dressed, and do some chores. I then have time to do a bit of reading and savor that first cup of coffee before she even begins to stir and pull herself out of dreamland. As I wait, the house sits eerily quiet, yet there is an expectancy and charge in the air that is almost palpable as I wait for her to come out and start our day with her smile and laughter, as I sit in my study quietly waiting for the sun.
5 hours ago