Friday, August 22, 2008
The early bird deserves to die
Somehow I have been unlucky enough to produce not one, but two children who like to rise at 5:30 am for the day. How I, someone who never made it up in time to watch Saturday morning cartoons, exuded frightening hostility toward my college roommates if they so much as lifted a pinkie finger while I was sleeping and needs at least nine hours to resemble human form, managed to become the mother to these unnatural creatures who like to get up in the dark is beyond me. My only consolation is that Molly does not wake me seventeen times through the night to nurse like Frankie did. It is amazing how much less repulsive 5:30 am looks when your sleep is uninterrupted. Mind you, it still makes me feel like vomiting but I no longer have to pretend that I am in a concentration camp and my only hope of survival is to get out of bed and work dutifully. You think I'm kidding, but that is not hyperbole. That is HOW MUCH I WOULD RATHER CONSIDER ADOPTING THEM OUT THAN GET OUT OF MY BED. These children better be around me in my dotage to wash and set my white curls because they owe me big time.