The cacophony of ring tones begins at 543 exactly
A quiet digital samba joined by a driving electronic rock beat
the duet playing out betweeen the blessings of snooze
My own quiet bell joins the frey and I crawl from my down-filled cocoon
Climbing over the piles of a teenage filing system
turning an ankle on a stack of clothes deceptively hiding last months Cosmo and Glamour
I make the gentle good morning noises that seem to be genetically encoded in my sleepy mind
cooing and clucking at my brood to start their day
I turn on lights
yank pillows
Ruffle blankets
tickle feet
poke bellies
stroke a sleepy head of long brown hair remembering how beautiful it was before the dye
they burrow deeper into their own cocoons
muttering about the evils of english teachers and the tortures of math tests
they are just stretching
just one more minuting
just grumbling and grousing
the hour has come
the bus will leave without you
it is a long walk
You should wake us up earlier, they tell me
630 is much to late to start
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