Sunday Scribbling - Morning

As a child, I was very much a morning person. I remember sleeping in mom's bed on Friday nights because she wouldn't let me get up before 6am on Saturday mornings. I would usually be awake by 5:30, willing the numbers on the digital clock to change to 6 0 0. Mom was a light sleeper, so I couldn't just slip out of bed without waking her. Those last 30 minutes waiting for that mommy-sanctioned time were sheer torture. The last minute was always the worst. So very close, and still so very far away. There were times I was sure the clock had stopped at 5:59 and would never change again. The second 6:00 was displayed, I would shoot out of bed and head straight for the kitchen. Grab the Rice Krispies and the sugar canister (no milk please). Then straight to the living room to turn on the TV and immerse myself in the cartoon world for a good 4 hours. I had to be super quiet and be sure to put the sugar back in the kitchen before mom got up. She would have torn my tail up if she had caught me eating straight sugar like that.

I remember mom waking me up for school singing "Rise and shine and give God the glory glory!" It would still be dark outside, but I was a morning person. Once I was awake, there was no stopping me. The bus would come by around 7, and I can remember pacing at the door impatiently as mom watched out the window. When she would see the bus at the far end of our road, she would sing "I see the bus and the bus sees me." We would go to our corner and meet the bus there - mom would have to hold my hand or else I would have shot out of our door and down the road like a bullet. I loved school, and couldn't wait to get there.

I'm still a morning person, though not such an extreme one anymore. I'm not quite as eager to get my day started as I was in my childhood. I can appreciate the finer points of sleeping in. I just can't always convince my inner alarm clock to let me do it. Sleeping until 8:30 is sleeping in as far as my body is concerned.