This morning I awoke to silence.
So this is what normalcy sounds like. I always wondered.
Last night, my friend took my 5 and my 10, leaving me with my 9 (the Girl Scout Kid). Elle's home from work, which means I can legally ignore her two kids for like, ALL of today. I love her children. I just love them in small doses (yes, Elle. I'm prepared for you to cut up my bedspread for that. Gimme a few days and I'll post some gorgeous little momento about how cute your brats are when they play horsey together or cut each other's hair in the bathroom when they're supposed to be napping).
Previous to my peaceful awakening, I was rousted sometime around 0-dark-thirty to see a shadow standing in front of my window. Now, I don't know about you, but when I awaken in the middle of the night to Shadow People, I tend to experience an instant transport back to age four when monsters lived under my bed and used to try to grab my foot if I happened to leave it hanging over the bed (that could also have been my cat. Either way, I was nearly killed like six times).
9? Is that you?
Are you trying to scare me to death?
No. I had a bad dream.
Want to talk about it?
Then climb in and stop trying to give me grey hair.
Mom, your hair used to be red.
I hate your auntie.
When I finally dragged myself from bed this morning around nine and came downstairs, I was greeted by Flogging Molly pounding from the stereo.
It's going to be an awesome day.