Friday, November 6, 2015


I wish there were a way to adequately record the exact sound of my alarm every morning. The surprisingly loud thumping of tiny feet as a small whirlwind hurls herself down the hallway and bursts through my bedroom door at six am, her wild and curly hair poking out in all directions, her tiny hands shoving beloved animals and books at me, before demanding to be hauled into my bed herself to be snuggled and kissed and told that she is even more wonderful today than yesterday.

I would not wish to record the high pitches squeals of rage she makes when the laws of physics have once again disobeyed her. Or the look of complete malice in her eyes just before she flings half eaten food onto the floor in direct defiance of my stern look and uselessly pointed finger. Or her sobs of humiliation and betrayal as I once again pour water over her head in the exquisite torture of hair-washing.

I do not know if the good moments outnumber the bad, she and I do not keep score. I do know that when I wake up every morning, more exhausted now that ever, only half of me wants to hit the snooze button. Which is lucky, as she does not have one.

1 comment:

RiTides said...

Just wanted to say your writing is terrific! Wandered over here from the older "She reads, she reads" blog. Both full of fantastic, hilarious writing!