Morning Melodrama

*Companion piece to:*

Each morning I wake up at about seven thirty, no alarm needed. No ordinary alarm that is because I have a three year brother who wakes me up by calling for Momma and Daddy. Of course, in response to seeing me appear in the door way, it is a fifty percent chance of getting an adorable, “Hug me, Lala.” Or a screaming terror of death, “LEAVE ME LONE! GO WAY, LALA!”

Any which way I blink at the sleep in my eyes, still too tired to fully understand what’s going on or why I’m awake to begin with. With that said, all my brain is equip to handle is a simple strain of thought that goes like this: Milk, diaper, Wonder Pets, and more Wonder Pets. So much Wonder Pets

For those of you don’t know, Wonder Pets is a children show that, in it’s own right very cute, but it looks like it was crafted from magazine clippings. It consists of a guinea pig, turtle, and duckling, saving baby animals from countless perils, and unavoidably they sing. Their singing is hard on the ears at seven in the morning and they do more singing than saving. In one instance one of the animals they were helping complained about how they were just singing and not really helping…

*Note to self: If you get to a lengthy explanation about wonder pets, you must turn around and go back.*

Great. So where does that leave us? Oh, yes. Milk. It almost always has to be chocolate. Hershey’s syrup is his favorite, of course, but I often trick him with a chocolate breakfast blend. Either way, if it’s not brown, he’s not drinking it.

At this point dogs are crying for breakfast, three of them and total, and not one caring about the fact that I just crawled out of bed. The heavy burden of thumbs. Use your power wisely, friends.

After getting the youngin’ his milk and the dogs their chow, I haphazardly stuff a bagel into my mouth before needing to move on to task number two.

*Note to self: Skip ‘Diaper’ deets.*

An air of mystery, if you will, and now we’ve come full circle. I plop on the couch clutching my phone and an occasional cup of coffee, desperate to shake the need to fall back asleep. Hey, step one is recognizing the problem, people. Step two is acceptance, “You’re going to be up from now until at least twelve in the morning because you make poor life choices.” I continuously curse myself.

When my heart rate finally catches up to speed with the rest of my body, the difficult part is over and I get to play with Avenger action figures for the rest of the day.


But that’s a tale of woe for another day.

*I realize this read more like an average blog post than a flowing piece of literature, but once again, baby steps. I plan on trying this again, just a couple days had past and I figured something is better than nothing.*


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