Weekend Morning

I set the alarm for 5:15 so I could at least lie in the bed for a few minutes before our visiting little-guys woke; it went off and I was wide awake, all too aware that they were sleeping just on the other side of our bedroom wall. “This is good!” I thought. “I can think my own thoughts, stretch, do bound-angle pose and even change that darn dressing on my incision before they wake at 6!”

That’s when I heard a small sound as a hand-scrawled note came sliding under the door. “Can we get up now TT? it said.

They were already awake!  At quarter past five in the morning!  And had evidently been awake long enough for the older one to have found paper and pencil and composed a full sentence.

Then the bedroom door opened and in they rushed us. They got right in the bed, with us, turned on the TV and for 45 minutes lay on their tummies watching the jazzy pre-teen lingo and fast moving graphics on Disney HD.

I won’t lie: I lay on my tummy watching too. In fact we all watched except for Old Dave. “Papa can sleep through anything!” said the little brother. That he can, and always could, from way back when he looked like this, my sister has called him “Lying Down Man.” 

After the pancakes and bacon, the juice and the mangoes,  the brushing of the teeth and the inspecting of TT’s green toenail polish we manned our battle stations to give those lights sabers a work out as promised.

I sigh happily remembering it even as I yearn for a nap here. Besides engaging in a little sword play what’s nicer on a weekend morning than lying in bed with friends?

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