Well, we survived our first full week of school. And by we, I mean my husband and me. We survived the 5:45 a.m. wake up call, that is the blaring alarm from Shawn’s bedside clock. We survived the rush of the morning, trying to get all three kids fed, clothed, homework & lunch packed. We even made it through the first week of homework, paperwork, and open houses. We looked forward to the first Saturday sleep in. We hugged our pillows, covered ourselves in blankets, and looked forward to the late-morning wake up. But no…
Was it our 8-year-old waking us early on Saturday morning? Certainly, it wouldn’t be our teen, and our middle is fast asleep on the top bunk, not to be bothered by anyone or anything. He too, enjoys his sleep.
Nope. It was our dog. Nothing says good morning, like the sound of a dog gearing up for a good-old-fashioned puke. You know the one…it starts from the belly and you just know its gonna happen, but you pray that it won’t, only to be surprisingly disappointed when it actually happens? You know, the one with the heaving noises, the impending doom that is to follow but you don’t know where because its not like a child, where you strategically place them over the toilet.
A dog has a mind of its own, and no amount of pulling or attempting to pick up, is gonna do the trick. This dog has doubled down, and yah, it’s about to go down all over your beautiful floral silk bedspread.
This dog has just given me the big “up yours” – like he totally knew I was exhausted and knew this was the night I was looking forward to all week. So, at 4:25 a.m. instead of dreaming soundly, I am up, scrubbing, disinfecting, washing…
Within minutes my 8-year-old stumbles out from her bedroom, “What’s going on?” she asks through tired eyes. Another door opens, it’s the teen. The teen! Now even he’s up. It’s 4:25 in the freakin’ morning! This can’t be happening. It’s Saturday morning. Everyone go back to bed.
The house was bustling like a Monday morning. It’s too early. No, this isn’t happening.
But here we are, up. 5:30 a.m. Breakfast is being served. The television is blaring, coffee is being made. Looks like the only one who’s sleeping…is the dog.